


Another Heaven (Weiß Kreuz Style)

by Androgene



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Chaptered, F/M, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2002-03-12
Updated: 2005-11-04
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:11:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9769769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Androgene/pseuds/Androgene
Summary: Yohji is a police detective and Aya is a male strip dancer. When a serial killer is on a rampage, Yohji and his partner Crawford are called in to investigate. Soon they realize that the killer is not human and his next target may just be Aya. AU fusion - YxA





	1. Scene 1 – What’s Cooking?

**Author's Note:**

> I swear my muse has a fascination with crossover stories. I was planning to write a nice proper WK fic, set in the nice orthodox WK universe, but nnnoooo, I got a burst of inspiration to write another WK crossover-fusion fic. My muse must be laughing her head off. 
> 
> Anyway since I’m on it, I might as well write it out. We all know Weiß Kreuz universe but I believe the Japanese film ‘Another Heaven’ is not as well known. So here goes. 
> 
> ‘Another Heaven’ is a Japanese film, released in 2000 by Omega Projects Inc with Another Heaven Inc. Joji ‘George’ Iida directed the movie and its soundtrack is composed by Taro Iwashiro, who did the soundtrack to the Ruroni Kenshin movie. Another notable point is that the theme song is ‘Gravity’ by Luna Sea. 
> 
> The movie is a blend of cop-drama with a touch of the supernatural. Basically the protagonist Detective Hayase Manabu and his partner Inspector Tobitaka Ken’ichirou are investigating a series of brutal and shocking murders in Tokyo. When they caught the criminal and thought they had put an end to the crime, another fresh spate of similar killings breaks out. At first they thought it was a copycat on the prowl but soon, they realize that the maniac is not human but a supernatural power that can shift its spirit from person to person. Manabu catches the spirit’s interest and thus began a stalking game that will eventually involve Asako – Manabu’s girlfriend – who has a special psychic ability. 
> 
> ‘Another Heaven’ has a short run in the cinemas in Singapore and it took me months to find a VCD copy of it. It is a very interesting and engaging movie. And Taro Iwashiro composed very good music for it as well. I recommend the movie to anyone who is interested in Japanese films. 
> 
> My fiction, more or less, follows the movie’s plot, with the Weiß characters acting out the story. So it’s Weiß characters in the ‘Another Heaven’ universe. Just to let you know who is who:
> 
> Hayase Manabu – Kudoh Yohji  
> Ooba Asako – Fujimiya Aya/Ran  
> Tobitaka Ken’ichirou – Brad Crawford  
> Akagi Kouzou – Bishop  
> Chief Inspector Sakamoto – Manx  
> Makuta Yuuji – Ken Hidaka  
> Sasamoto Mina – Asuka aka Neu  
> Kashiwagi Chizuru – Schon  
> Kimura Atsushi – Nagi Noe   
> Kimura’s friend #1 (the one who died) – Kikyou  
> Kimura’s friend #2 (the one who lived) – Kase  
> Special student - Toto  
> Crime Buff Kid – Omi Tsukiyono
> 
> The list is still growing. 
> 
> You don’t really have to watch the movie to understand my fiction. I’m in the mood to make it a readable stand-alone fic.
> 
> Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz belongs to Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiss. Another Heaven is a production of Omega Project Inc/Another Heaven Inc/Shochiku, and directed by Joji Iida. These film and anime do not belong to me and I make no profits from them.

How terrible for the earth and the sea!  
The Devil has come down to you,  
And he is filled with rage,  
As he knows that he has such little time left.

\- Chapter 12, Revelation to John

 

It should have been just another Tokyo night – the dark starless sky tinged with city lights and the quiet symphony of a city at rest. Should have been just a quiet uneventful night, in a city where the crime rate was much lower than in other countries. Should have been a night of people sleeping soundly, secured in their belief that they control their lives. 

But fate had a way of slapping someone in the face when he least expected it, dumping a pile of shit in his lap as if to say ‘Here, deal with it. And by the way, I’m still in charge’. 

As Chief Inspector Manx looked down at the corpse sprawled in the middle of the tiny cluttered apartment, she wondered in morbid humor if the young man had cursed the capricious bitch that was fate before he died. 

Outside the window, several police cars and ambulances barricaded the cheap low-rise apartment block. Through the drawn curtains, she could see the bloody flashes of police cars lights and hear the droning sounds of curious onlookers, media and other police personnel crawling all over the grounds. 

The apartment was like any other in the densely populated city – small. It was stamped all over with the mark of a young bachelor living in clutter - from the computer with the five-point-five surround speakers and RPG books strewn across the desk, to the shelves filled with toy figurines of mecha and soldiers and a fish tank of baby jellyfishes. Other than the jellyfishes, it was a typical apartment for a typical young man. Manx, in her trademark red skirt suit, stood out in stark glaring contrast, like the rest of her colleagues treading over the place. 

A loud crash jolted Manx out of her thoughts. She frowned at her newest detective sheepishly avoiding the fallen pile of CDs. “Be careful.” 

“Sorry,” Detective junior grade Hidaka Ken apologized. “There’s just too much clutter in here.” 

Manx sighed inwardly. For all of Ken’s athletic grace, he inexplicably turned into a klutz every time he stepped into a crime scene. It was a frustrating nervous habit, one she despaired of ever getting rid from him. 

“Smells good,” drawled a new voice. 

Manx turned to the front entrance, gifting her favorite detective a smile. 

Detective Kudoh Yohji stood at the doorway, looking over the crime scene while putting on forensic gloves. 

Yohji was half-Gaijin, the Caucasian blood evident in the honey-blond hair and green eyes, and the subtle chiseled angles to his sensually handsome features. He was taller than most Japanese, lanky and compact. He wore the unspoken standard attire of a police detective – somber gray three-piece suit – with a certain disheveled elegance. His tie was loosely knotted and a glaring yellow sports watch rested on a sinewy wrist. His hair was defiantly much longer than recommended length and an unlit cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth. 

In all the years Manx had worked with Yohji, she could never quite figure him out. Most of the times, he was a laidback paperwork-procrastinator. He hardly ever took anything seriously, was extremely sociable and friendly. Yet his singularly individualistic nature set him apart from others, so much so that even when he was being his gregarious self, he still struck Manx as a loner. 

But appearances were deceiving, Manx quickly learned during the early days of their association. Behind that lazy non-conforming surface was a sharp and observant mind, able to make leaps of intuitions to see the most crucial evidence in the least likely place. His deceptive laziness certainly caused suspects to underestimate his capabilities, much to their regret. 

“The victim seems to be a good cook,” Yohji noted as he went to the small kitchenette. 

His keen green eyes took in the remnants of a meal interrupted in mid-preparation: bits of vegetables and a bloodstained chopping board scattered on the countertop. The small dining table was set for two, with a basket of baguettes and a small bowl of salad ready. It was a fine-dining setting with a homely touch, distinctly out of place in a cluttered young man’s home. 

“The landlord was the one who called us?” Yohji asked. 

“Yes,” Manx answered. 

“He was laughing, you know. Saw him on my way up.” 

“He’s in shock. People tend to react in strange ways in order to cope. This block is still new. When news of this murder hits the TV, no one else is going to rent this place.” Manx turned her attention back to the body and continued dryly, “Frankly, I think the prospect of losing his investment is hitting him harder than the murder.” 

Yohji chuckled. 

“Konbanwa.” Two forensic personnel entered the apartment. The older man took a long practiced look at the stiff. “My, he looks relatively clean.” Absently, he added, “smells good. What’s cooking?” 

“Stew of some kind, I think.” Ken replied helpfully. 

“Very distracting,” Yohji remarked wryly. 

“You got that right. By the way, I heard over the radio that Inspector Crawford and Bishop-sensei are on their way.” 

Manx arched a brow. “Bishop? No kidding?” 

“No.” The forensic personnel began to set up his equipment. 

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, Yohji lifted the cover of the pot. Almost at once, he heard deep inhalations behind him and several sighs of appreciation. 

“Damn, that really smells good.” Ken muttered. 

“I think it’s pork, no, chicken stew,” the forensic personnel mused. 

A rather loud rumbling sound echoed through the apartment, causing everyone to break out into laughter. 

“Making you hungry, isn’t it, Ken?” 

“Hey, I can’t help it.” 

“Be serious, gentlemen.” That was Manx’s sternly delivered reprimand. “We have a murder victim here.” 

“Sorry.” 

A loud crash caused Yohji to turn away from his perusal of the kitchenette. 

“What did I say about being careful, Hidaka Ken?” Manx chided angrily. “You just jostled the body!” 

“...Empty.” 

Ken’s comment was so out-of-place and stunned that it caught Yohji’s attention immediately. Curious, he stepped out of the kitchenette. The cops surrounding the crime scene blocked his view of the stiff and from behind, he could not see Ken’s ashen expression. 

“What’s ‘empty’?” Manx asked impatiently. 

“His head.” 

“Be more respectful to the dead, young man.” 

“No, really.” The forensic personnel spoke up in a hushed and equally appalled voice. “It’s really empty.” 

Dead silence descended. 

Yohji peered over Manx’s shoulder. 

The top of the corpse’s head had been hacked open and it fell away like the lid of a pot. Yohji and everyone else could see right into the bloody empty space inside his skull. The only problem was there shouldn’t be an empty space inside the skull, since most of it was usually occupied by a certain distinctive human organ called – 

“The brain. Where’s the brain?” Ken asked nervously. 

Almost in unison, everyone slowly turned to stare at the pot simmering merrily away on the stove. 

Slowly, warily, Yohji retraced his steps to the stove. Very tentatively, he lifted the cover again and stirred the stew with the ladle. He felt a certain solid mass being pushed around by his ladle and he scooped it up... 

The cooked mass of a distinctive human organ emerged from the murky depths of the stew.


	2. Scene 2 – Ain’t Just A Crime

The front door burst open. 

There was a frantic exodus from the apartment as everyone tried to reach the corridor before they could puke all over the crime scene. Down below, on the ground level, everyone – from the onlookers to the media and other police officers – gaped in astonishment as the city’s finest fled the apartment as fast as they could. 

It was a surreal sight, comical even; one that would dominate the headlines for days to come as the media latched gleefully on this rare moment of the police losing their composure so ungracefully. 

It was certainly not a sight Inspector Bradley Crawford expected to see when he arrived at the crime scene in his white Honda. Next to him, Doctor Bishop, head of the forensic department – remained unfazed. 

“My, my,” Bishop remarked in his genteel voice, his constant smile never wavering. “It can’t be that bad.” 

“We’ll know soon enough.” 

Both men got out of the car. 

In terms of age and stature, they were both in their early thirties and wore their suits with impeccable style of the respectable middle class. Both were bespectacled and their hair neatly combed back. But that was the end of the similarities. 

Brad Crawford was a Gaijin born and raised in Japan. Raven-haired and possessing keen intelligent brown eyes, he looked much younger than his age. But his stern poker expression and calculating nature spoke of the years of experience under his belt. Crawford’s favored color was white and his youthful profession as an amateur boxer left him with a broad powerfully built body. 

Bishop, on the other hand, was slim and compact. His hair and eyes were a strange darkish-green color and his suit was a subdued brown. Unlike Crawford, Bishop possessed an easy smile, a genteel and cultured softness that belied a cool-headed detachment when it came to his work. 

Crawford caught hold of Ken. “Well?” 

Ken, green-faced and obviously quite traumatized, was too busy emptying his stomach’s contents in the bushes to answer. 

Both older men looked at each other, shrugged and proceeded to make their way to the crime scene. Crawford discreetly sniffed the air and wondered at the identity of the exceptionally good cook. On their way up the stairs, they met Yohji who was the last to leave the crime scene. He, though ashen-looking, was at least calmly making his way down the stairs in a dignified manner. 

“What happened?” Bishop asked. 

“...” 

“That smells good,” Crawford commented. 

Yohji stared at him and finally succumbed to the urge. “Awful.” Abandoning dignity, the blond stumbled down the last few steps to puke in the bushes next to Ken. 

“What’s up with them?” Crawford wondered. 

“You know what was the most awful thing I encountered in the years of my career?” Bishop said conversationally as both older men continued on to the crime scene. 

“What?” 

“A poor stiff with his penis stuffed in his mouth.” 

“That’s gross, Bishop.” 

“Yes, well, it was his lover’s idea of revenge. He was caught giving a blowjob, you see.” 

“Any woman will flip out if they discover their spouse’s gay.” 

“His lover was a he, actually.” 

“So what’s your point?” 

“Point? I’m just reminiscing.” 

“...” 

“I haven’t really found anything to top that,” Bishop sighed nostalgically. 

“Morbid hentai.”

* * *

Across the city, in a small tiny apartment, a pair of violet eyes suddenly opened. 

He stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom; sleep chased away and wondered what had woken him so abruptly. Uneasy, he sat up and looked out of his window. 

A premonition crept over him; he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something very bad was on the prowl.

* * *

With fingers only slightly shaky, Yohji lit up his cigarette and took a deep inhale. After that awful discovery in the apartment, he badly needed the smell of nicotine to chase away the stew’s fragrance. Yohji rested against the side of Crawford’s car and smoked his way through two cigarettes before he felt composed enough to even think about the investigation. 

He had been with the homicide department for five years and he had, in the course of his career, seen a lot of brutal crimes. But what he saw tonight took the cake. It wasn’t just premeditated murder; the fact that the murderer had taken the extra time and effort to painstakingly prepare the meal using the man’s brain... 

It was just plain diabolical. Malicious even. 

Yohji wondered who the murderer could be. 

The cold methodical nature of the murder, the delicate care and precision in the dining setting, the skill of the cook and let’s not forget the strength required to hack open the man’s skull... Something just didn’t quite add up. 

“The murderer is quite a skillful cook.” 

Yohji gave Crawford a dirty look as the two veteran cops joined him. 

“Must be a male,” Crawford continued nonplussed by what he saw. “Probably about 60 kg and possess lots of upper-body strength.” 

“I agree. The hacking job was remarkably clean,” Bishop mused, equally blasé about the crime. “Only a big man, used to the physical job of chopping, could do that. My guess is he’s probably a butcher.” 

“Inspector,” Ken came up to them, still looking rather queasy. “We may have a suspect. Some of the cops are interviewing the deceased’s next-door neighbor. He’s a butcher by profession.” 

Bishop simply smiled, bingo!

“Good job.” Crawford gave Ken a long look. “Still shaken, Hidaka?” 

Ken gulped. “No, sir.” 

Crawford leaned forward and whispered sotto voce into Ken’s ear, “it tastes like cheese.” 

Ken stared at him, horrified, turned green and bolted for the bushes again. 

“It’s not funny,” Yohji responded flatly. Ken definitely had his sympathy vote. 

Crawford just shrugged. Other than the amused glint in his eyes, his expression remained stern. “What about you, Kudoh? What do you think?” 

Yohji straightened, tossing his cigarette onto the ground and rubbed it out beneath his shoe. “I don’t know what to think. The scene doesn’t quite add up.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the car, looking up at the night sky contemplatively. “Feels schizo to me, the crime that is.” 

The barest of a frown touched Crawford’s brows. “What do you -?” 

“He’s escaping!” 

The far-off shout caught everyone’s attention. 

“Stop him! Quick!” 

Yohji wasted no time in joining the chase, his police-honed instincts kicking into play. He saw from the corner of his eye Crawford matching his speed and was aware that Bishop had chosen to stay behind instead. That was fine with him. Bishop’s profession did not require him to be able to sprint twenty-block races after criminals. 

Racing around the corner of the building, he saw a group of his fellow colleagues attempting to restrain a big man screaming and struggling to break free. At his first glance, Yohji had to admit the man fit the possible profile of the murderer. 

“I’m not the murderer!” the big man was screaming. “Let me go!” 

With a vigorous shake, the big man tossed off the policemen. A giveaway clue, Yohji noted immediately. Maybe he was the murderer after all. 

Gamely, Yohji pounced on him and was quickly shaken off as well; his lanky and lighter frame no match for the big man’s vigor. Crawford smoothly stepped in and landed a hard roundhouse across the big man’s face, disorienting him enough for them to try to subdue him again. 

“Let me go! Let me go!” the big man kept shouting. “I’m not the man you’re looking for!” 

Desperately he broke free and fled down the road behind the apartment block. The cops gave chase and finally, Yohji and Crawford managed to tackle him and pinned the struggling man to the ground. 

“If you’re innocent, why the hell did you run?” Yohji demanded to know. 

“I heard what the cops were saying, that they were looking for a big strong man, a butcher, who can make good stew.” The man babbled. “I’m a butcher and I also make stew! They say my stew is very good. How the hell do you expect me not to run?!” 

With a mighty effort, the big man threw both men off him again and stumbled to his feet. In his haste and fear, he tripped and landed hard against the surface of a car – and inexplicably froze. 

Yohji blinked. His puzzled gaze turned to what the man was staring at – his palm coated with a thick layer of blood. 

Almost like an afterthought, a bloodied pulverized body slid down, in a pool of slippery blood and gore, the windscreen of the car in front of the big man. 

Yohji stared, ignoring the hysterical big man retreating into the arms of the police, at the horribly mangled and shattered body sprawled before his eyes. Just when he thought it couldn’t possibly get worse, it did. 

Fate's way of saying, ‘I’m still in charge, so deal with it’. 

What a hell of a wake-up call.


	3. Scene 3 – The Bodies Pile Up

Five murders. 

In the space of five days, they had five such murders on their hands. 

They were dealing with a fucking serial killer, one that specialized in cooking delicious dinners with the brains of his victims. One who killed savagely but prepared the damned meals with gourmet skills. One who was causing hysteria in the media, the public, just about everybody who lived in Tokyo. 

Experts were invited on talk shows to give opinions. Such brutal crimes had never been experienced before in the collective memory of Tokyo and everyone wanted to know what went wrong and who was responsible. Fingers pointed at popular cultures, blame placed at the feet of violence-saturated entertainment etc. 

The hysterical public wanted to know what the police were doing. The Prime Minister himself was breathing down Commissioner Takatori Shuuichi’s neck, and the investigation squad spearheaded by Yohji and Crawford was under great pressure to find the murderer. 

It was not a position Yohji wanted to be in. He was not, repeat, not the leader-type. But being such a good detective, he had little choice but to accept the position when the investigations started. Good thing Crawford was assigned as his temporary partner for the case; the man’s cool objectiveness remained unfazed by the stress of handling such a high-profile crime. 

“According to the psychologist’s profile,” Crawford was saying as he, Yohji, Bishop and Ken left the briefing room for their squad room, “The murderer probably has acute feelings of inadequacy, harbor great resentment and anger towards the society, and gets a kick out of being the one in charge, and making a fool of the authorities.” 

Yohji rolled his eyes behind his shades. “That described the last two murderers we caught. Don’t we have anything more concrete than that?” 

“Personally, I’ll eliminate the inadequacy, anger and resentment part.” Crawford adjusted his spectacles. “I think the murderer gets a malicious joy from carrying out his deeds.” 

“You sense that too, huh?” Yohji said. 

“I don’t get it,” Ken confessed. 

“The bodies are too clean and undamaged for a supposedly vicious hacking job,” Yohji elaborated. “Despite the strength involved, the blows are too precise. Plus it takes time and patience to cook those meals.” 

“We also know one other thing,” Bishop said. “This serial killer has a fetish for the human brain.” 

“Which doesn’t really help us. It’s not as though there’s supermarkets selling human brains which we can stake out,” Yohji replied dryly. He shook his head. “The entire profile by the psychologist is way off the mark.” 

“So what do we really know about the murderer?” Ken asked. 

“Nothing. In the first place, the evidence cannot even agree on whether the murderer is male or female.” Yohji began to tick off the points on his fingers. “Firstly, the fingerprints are too small to even belong to a medium-build man. We’re talking about dainty female hands. Autopsies discovered three of the victims recently had sex before they died, which would suggest a woman killer. 

“But a woman can’t possess the kind of physical strength needed to break a resisting man’s neck and hack open his skull. Think about it. The crimes require a cool-headed person subduing a struggling man. A woman in that position won’t be able to pin down the victim. She would need some kind of emotional drive – anger or fear. If it were anger, the man would be hacked to death, not by the simple efficiency of breaking neck. So in that aspect, we’re looking for a man. Big, strong and has an intimate knowledge of human anatomy in order to break the victims’ necks.” 

“And a skillful cook as well,” Crawford added. 

“If only the fingerprints were not blurred,” Yohji remarked. “It would make determining his identity a lot easier.” 

“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” Bishop suggested. “Maybe we should be looking for two persons instead.” 

“Maybe,” Crawford mused. “Three of them did have sex before they died. Maybe the woman was an accomplice, a tactic of making them let their guard down so the man could strike.” 

“But it doesn’t explain why only three of them had sex,” Yohji pointed out. “Why not all five of them?” 

“You might want to consider did they have sex willingly or unwillingly?” Bishop asked calmly. 

“Come again?” 

“The victim may not necessarily be a willing party,” Bishop pointed out. “The woman might have forced herself on the unwilling and frightened victim instead.” 

Everyone stopped and looked at him. 

“What?” 

“How can a woman rape a man?” Ken asked with a faint blush. “Without a certain...you know what.” 

“Haven’t you heard of non-consensual sex? Arousal is a purely biological response. Doesn’t really obey one’s conscious will.” 

Everyone went, “...” 

“You know something, Bishop?” Yohji said at last. “You need a life.” 

“Yes, well...I am due for retirement in ten years’ time,” Bishop replied with wistful longing. 

Yohji snorted, “I’m talking about a nice long vacation soon.” Without thinking, he took out a cigarette and his lighter. 

“No smoking in the building,” Crawford reminded him. 

Yohji ignored him. He was in the habit of breaking that rule constantly every day. He was about to light his cigarette when he caught sight of someone entering the police HQ. He stopped and couldn’t help but stare. 

The young woman was dressed fashionably in a pants suit with a vest instead of a jacket and a beret perched at a jaunty angle on her short-cropped hair. Her style bordered on androgyny and she carried it off with a gung-ho confidence that was simply arresting. She was pretty in a spunky manner with a beauty mark under her left eye. Her dark eyes sparkled with humor and she smiled brilliantly at Yohji as she walked past the group of men without saying a word. 

“Who was that?” Ken asked, interested gaze trailing after the woman. 

“Murase Asuka-sensei,” Crawford replied. “Nicknamed ‘Neu’ by her staff. She works at the police hospital.” 

Bishop arched a brow in surprise. “She’s a doctor?” 

“She was looking at us,” Ken stated somewhat dreamily. 

“She was looking at Yohji,” Crawford corrected. “And he was looking back at her.” 

“Some guys have all the luck,” Ken remarked. “At least she’s a much better candidate than – what’s his name? That male strip dancer?” 

“Fujimiya,” Crawford volunteered the information. 

“Oi,” Yohji protested, “my bisexuality is my business, thank you very much.” 

“Yohji! Crawford!” 

They all turned at the loud strident call to see Manx hastening towards them, a rather stressed out look on her face. 

“Another one just came in,” she began with no preamble. 

“Shit,” Yohji swore. “What kind of food this time?” 

Manx grimaced in revulsion. “Spaghetti Neapolitan sauce.” 

“Kuso!” Ken uttered the expletive with dismayed horror. “That’s my favorite dish!”


	4. Scene 4 – Still Waters Run Deep

Yohji bolted straight up in bed, gasping for breath and his heart pounding so hard that it felt like it would burst. His body and hair was damp with sweat, making his shirt stick uncomfortably to his back. Green eyes blinked, the dazed panic fading away to be replaced by a bleary awareness. With a sigh of relief, he sat at the edge of his bed and ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair. 

It was just a nightmare, a rather vivid one but a nightmare nonetheless. The details of it were fading fast but he could still vaguely recall a feeling of pure malice and cruel joy, as though he was the murderer carrying out the killings. 

The case was finally getting to him, he admitted with a weary ruefulness. Without looking, he pushed the files he had fallen asleep on away from him. He could do without those photos for a night. 

Yohji suddenly froze, the realization that he was not alone dawning belatedly on him. Warily, he turned around. 

Seated beneath the window, with his legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles, and the rest of the investigation files scattered about him, was the last person Yohji expected to find in his apartment. 

Fujimiya Aya gazed calmly back at him, with that closed-up icy aloofness that never failed to snare Yohji’s attention. 

Aya was a natural redhead, odd as that might seem for a pure Japanese. The crimson silk of his hair contrasted sharply with his pale alabaster skin, and his eyes were a strange compelling violet. Aya’s body was well toned but slender. The one time Aya was in drag, he fooled Yohji completely. He was also much younger than Yohji was but you couldn’t see that from his eyes. Those cynical violet orbs spoke of a hard life on the streets and despite the vibrant color, were dark and brooding. 

Altogether, Aya was a strangely, uniquely beautiful young man. His body-hugging sleeveless black turtleneck and tight leather pants only accentuated his lithe sexy figure, while the black fingerless gloves that ran up to his biceps gave him a somewhat effeminate but dangerous allure. The single piece of jewelry he wore was a slim golden earring dangling from an earlobe. 

“What are you doing here?” Yohji asked when he managed to find his voice. 

“I was in the neighborhood,” Aya replied in the icy monotone that was customary for him. 

Yohji didn’t believe that for a second. He glanced at his front door and back at the redhead. “How the hell did you get in?” 

“Your front door was unlocked. Very careless, especially for a cop.” 

Yohji sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. “I thought I’d never see you again.” 

“Really?” 

“Your case was closed a long time ago.” 

“I know.” Aya idly leafed through the case document he was reading. “I helped you to put that man away and you helped me to break free from him. That should be enough.” 

And it should be enough. 

Yohji remembered with absolute clarity the first time he met the sensual yet icy enigma named Aya. It was a homicide case and Yohji needed an ‘in’ to get close to the suspect who owned the strip joint. The redhead was the most popular dancer in the joint and when Yohji saw him performed on the stage, he understood why. 

He, who prided himself on his jaded worldliness, had been completely spellbound by the siren sensuality of the dancer. The odd but alluring juxtapose of cool aloofness and beguiling come-hither snared him as effectively as a lasso. In a fashion only he could possess, Aya was a contradictory, irresistible blend of fire and ice. And he set any man’s blood, who watched him dance, to boil. 

When Yohji approached him after his performance, in order to solicit his help in catching the murderer, Aya hadn’t wanted to help, suspicious and wary of the handsome blond detective. Yohji couldn’t recall spending so much time and effort on his dates than trying to persuade Aya to change his mind. His task was made tougher because he was suppressing his desire for the redhead siren at the same time. 

Aya knew though – how could he not? He had been a strip dancer and ‘selling his favor’ since fifteen. He recognized lust when he saw it and life had taught him that people could not be trusted, especially a cop trying to get close to someone like him. But Aya’s efforts to prove Yohji wrong in his sincerity backfired when the blond detective turned down his advances – firmly but politely - several times despite his obvious desire. That finally convinced Aya of Yohji’s sincerity and he helped the detective to put away his boss who had murdered a female strip dancer. It was a mutually beneficial agreement anyway, since his boss did not treat his dancers well. 

Even after the case had been solved, Yohji’s desire was still there, simmering and held in check. He knew they should have distanced themselves from each other after the case had closed, but for some reasons, their paths kept crossing in the later months. Infrequent, unexpected and completely unplanned, but once they met, they ended up spending time together. Not having sex, oddly enough, but doing innocent activities like strolling, eating and talking. Yohji found Aya’s cynical direct nature very refreshing. 

Yohji could have sworn that Aya felt something for him on those occasions. It was hard to tell with that closed-off expression; he couldn’t be sure. However Yohji was content to let it rest, well aware that he was already treading dangerous and uncertain grounds for a detective of his status. 

He rued the day it ended so awkwardly between them. Yohji never knew who initiated the first move. Probably it was mutual; they had been so drunk when they slept together. But when they woke the next morning, neither of them was prepared to face the consequences and they parted in embarrassment. 

Yohji thought he would never see Aya again. Obviously not. 

“The murderer is a woman.” 

Yohji blinked, the odd statement baffling him for a moment. Then he saw the case file in Aya’s hands. “What makes you think it’s a woman?” 

“The food.” 

“Most chefs are men,” Yohji pointed out. He got up and went over to Aya’s side, taking the case files from him. “These are not for civilians’ eyes.” 

Aya easily relinquished the files. “No men cook this type of meal. Women do.” 

“And you would know because...?” 

“My sister,” Aya replied simply. 

Yohji winced. He had forgotten how touchy Aya could be at times on the subject of his deceased imouto. “Sorry.” 

“Daijoubu.” 

Silence descended. 

Yohji tossed the case files onto the dining table and went to the fridge to search for a bottle of mineral water. He took a deep drink, thinking about what Aya said. “Okay, let’s say you’re right. But there’s no way a woman can break a man’s neck and hack open his skull. She’s not strong enough.” 

“She can if she’s superhuman,” Aya answered as he stepped into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, arms folded across his chest. 

Yohji glanced incredulously at him. “This is not a joke, Aya.” 

“I’m not joking.” 

“There’s no such thing as superhuman.” 

Aya shrugged. “I only know what I know.” 

Yohji sighed in exasperation. 

“Let me help you find her.” 

“How are you going to help me? That is, if I do accept your help.” 

To Yohji’s surprise, the brooding violet gaze slid away and suddenly seemed to find his floor extremely interesting. It was a gesture of nervousness Yohji never thought he would see coming from the icy redhead. 

“I have a special ability. I can tell what people are feeling.” 

“Nani?” 

“I’m not lying, Yohji.” 

And he was not, Yohji quickly realized. Aya was dead serious and absolutely believed in what he said. The redhead also knew how outlandish his claim was and was inviting derision from Yohji. It was a brave thing to do, for someone as closely guarded as Aya, and an odd belief for the cynical man to hold. 

Yohji went over to Aya’s side and placed a hand on the smooth curve of a bared pale shoulder. His other hand gently tipped the delicate chin up to meet the violet gaze. “I don’t think you’re a liar.” 

“But you don’t believe me either,” Aya stated. 

“Well, it is a bit farfetched,” Yohji admitted. 

Aya glared at him. 

“Try looking at it from my point-of-view.” 

“Hn,” Aya grudgingly ceded his reason. 

Yohji smiled at the disgruntled redhead. “You know, it never cease to puzzle me how someone so thorny could be so popular with his customers.” 

If looks could kill, Yohji would be dead right now. 

“Sorry,” Yohji chuckled. He just couldn’t help teasing the redhead. “But seriously, this is a police case. Thank you for your offer but I can’t involve civilians, you understand that.” 

“Yes,” Aya replied reluctantly. 

Yohji suddenly realized he was touching Aya and his thumb was rubbing the smooth contour of Aya’s chin. Self-consciously, he let go of the redhead and stepped back. “You better go home,” he said awkwardly. “I’m really tired.” 

Mentally, he kicked himself for that lame excuse. Sure, he was tired but couldn’t his fatigued mind come up with something better? 

Without a change in his closed-off expression, Aya stepped out of the kitchen. “Let me get my jacket.” 

With a soundless fluid grace, Aya crossed over to the window where he had sat, waiting patiently for Yohji to wake from his sleep. He bent to pick up his black duster, pausing when his gaze fell on the crime photo that had fallen from its file. A slight frown creased between his brows as he picked up the photo. “Ne, I really think a woman did this.” 

His frown grew deeper when he heard no reply. Turning, he blinked in surprise when he saw the slumped figure of Yohji on the floor leaning against his bed. From the angle his head was tipped over, it was clear that Yohji was asleep. Dropping the photo, Aya padded around the bed to get a better look at the detective. 

“He must be really tired,” he muttered under his breath. 

Aya stared at Yohji thoughtfully, eyes hooded and brooding as he took in the unlikely blond who had entered his life so unexpectedly. With a sudden decisive move, Aya tossed his duster over the armchair and went over to Yohji. He carefully lowered himself over Yohji’s stretched out legs; hands braced against the side of the bed, and stealthily straddled the sleeping blond. 

Yohji did not stir. Smirking, Aya leaned forward and kissed him. 

Aya felt Yohji’s start of surprise as he woke abruptly and increased the pressure of his kiss, shifting along Yohji’s thighs until their groins were pressed intimately together. The redhead wrapped his arms around Yohji’s shoulders, his tongue darting out to coax Yohji’s mouth to open. 

A muffled sound of protest escaped Yohji. Both his hands rose involuntarily to grasp Aya’s head. With a gasp, he tugged the redhead away, breaking the kiss. “What the hell was that about?” he gasped out. 

“Do you have to ask?” Aya attempted to reach for him again. 

Yohji firmly restrained him back. “What brought this on?” 

“Nothing,” Aya shrugged. 

The blond did not believe him. He gave Aya a searching look, trying to figure out what was going through the redhead’s mind. Aya leaned in to kiss him again but Yohji pushed him back. 

“Yohji,” Aya huffed irritably, “most people would kill to have me for free.” 

“Well, I’m not like most people.” Yohji pointed out. “I don’t want a repeat of the last time.” 

Something flashed within the depths of Aya’s violet eyes, gone too quickly for Yohji to discern. A pale hand in fingerless glove reached up and caressed a tanned chiseled cheek. “It won’t happen again.” 

“We shouldn’t be doing this. I’m a cop and you’re a strip dancer.” 

Aya smirked, a challenging look in his eyes. “Since when did societal differences ever stop you?” 

He let go of Yohji, sitting back to run his fingers across the narrow break between his black top and pants, tracing his pale navel that peeked out tantalizingly. His smirk grew wider as he felt Yohji’s cock hardening against his inner thigh. 

“I know you want me,” he purred. “And I want you too. You have no idea how rare it is for me to want somebody.” 

“Oh I think I’m beginning to have an inkling,” Yohji growled heatedly. 

He wrapped his arms around Aya’s narrow waist and back and roughly pulled him close for a devouring kiss. Now that he had made up his mind, Yohji wasted no time plundering the warm depths of Aya’s mouth, wordlessly demanding for the redhead’s submission. Aya went along willingly, hands clinging to Yohji’s shoulders, as he opened his mouth to the domineering tongue demanding entrance. The redhead melted against Yohji, went all soft and pliant, and a muffled moan escaped him as his hips hitched upwards in response to Yohji’s hands cupping and fondling the twin melons of his bum. 

Those hands never stopped caressing his trim lithe body, pushing his black turtleneck up, baring his pale, slender but well-defined torso. Aya threw his head back, a startled gasp leaving his kiss-bruised mouth as fingers grazed across his pink nipples. He tightened his hold on Yohji’s head, fingers threading through the soft silky hair, moaning ceaselessly now to the exquisite pleasure of Yohji’s nibbling kisses on his sensitive neck. He arched up, pushing his chest against those skillful hands playing and tweaking his nipples. It was so good; it was not enough. He needed to feel bare skin on skin. Aya pulled off his top and tossed it aside, and reached for Yohji’s shirt, struggling to unbutton it with trembling fingers. 

To his consternation, Yohji pulled his hands away. “Not yet, sweetie.” 

Aya glared at him, passion not blunting the sharpness of his expression. “Don’t call me that.” 

Yohji simply smirked and lowered his head to take a peaked nipple into his mouth, drawing a loud sharp cry from Aya. His glare dissolved into slack-faced pleasure, head flung back as the detective suckled the hard nub of flesh, working at it with teeth and tongue, even as his other hand tweaked and pinched its twin. 

Green eyes glittered with lust and pleasure as Yohji watched the redhead writhing on his lap. God, Aya was so hot, so beguiling when he lost himself in his pleasure. It made his desire surged even higher. All thoughts of consequences disappeared; all he wanted to do now is take the redhead, claim Aya as his. 

Even if it was for just one night. 

Yohji turned his attention to Aya’s other nipple, playing with it while his fingers worked open the black leather pants. Hand delving in, he fondled the erection trapped within, pleased when Aya involuntarily ground his cock against his hand. Pushing down the pants, Yohji freed Aya’s rather impressive erection and fisted it. While his other hand cupped the pale round bottom, he urged Aya to his knees, and explored the redhead’s sweet crack. 

Aya moaned, face flushed and violet eyes dark and glazed with passion. His hips thrust against the wonderful pressure surrounding his cock. He couldn’t help but spread his legs wider; one hand reaching down behind to unerringly guide Yohji’s caressing fingers to his pucker. He cupped Yohji’s face, turning it up to face him, and kissed him hungrily again. A choked cry escaped him and was swallowed by the blond as he felt a finger pushed past the tight ring of muscles to the first knuckle. Suddenly he felt a sensation of being lowered. Then he was lying on the floor, Yohji tugging off his pants, leaving him naked save for the black fingerless gloves he still wore. 

Aya sprawled wantonly on the floor, legs spread apart at either side of the kneeling Yohji watching him with green eyes sharp with lust and excitement. He shivered, feeling himself grew harder as the detective’s heated gaze raked him over. His pink tongue darted out to lick his upper lip, violet eyes heavily lidded with desire. Slowly, he drew up both legs, exposing all to the detective’s view. 

Yohji watched avidly as Aya’s gloved hand reached for his pale weeping cock and caught the clear drop of precum with his fingers. Then, tantalizingly slow, Aya languidly brought his fingers to his pouting lips and delicately licked them clean. Thickly lashed eyelids fluttered but Aya never removed his smoky gaze from Yohji’s face. Very slowly he pulled his finger from his mouth, and he arched a fine red brow provocatively. 

“Well?” he drawled huskily. “Are you going to stare all night?” 

Yohji grinned, a feral grin of lust. “Hell, no.”

* * *

It was a long while before they were finally sated, having moved their lovemaking from the floor to the bed. The scents of sex and sweat hung heavily in the air while their heavy breathing was loud in the silence, as they sought to regain their strength in the aftermath. 

When Yohji felt he could finally move, he lifted himself off the smaller man, feeling a twinge of regret and loss as his spent cock slipped out from Aya’s tight welcoming warmth. Grimacing slightly, he took off the used condom and negligently tossed it over the edge of his bed. He would clean that up in the morning. 

Lying next to the redhead, with his leg still nestled between Aya’s thighs, Yohji propped his head up on a hand to look down at his bed partner. He couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of proprietary satisfaction, when he spied the vivid red mark against the pale curve of Aya’s neck. 

“You look like the cat that got the cream,” Aya observed languidly. 

“Do I?” Lazily, Yohji reached up and gently stroked the love bite. 

Aya arched ever so slightly to his touch, a faint but sated smile on his kiss-bruised lips. He sighed heavily as Yohji’s fingers traced along his collarbone and down his pectorals, finally resting on his flat cum-stained tummy, Yohji’s wrist grazing his limp cock. His eyes closed momentarily when Yohji pressed a gentle kiss to the hollow in his collarbone. 

“Is this just a one-night stand?” Yohji asked quietly. 

“Do you want it to be just that?” 

Green eyes, soft but somber, gazed intently at him. “I don’t understand you, Aya. You don’t say what’s on your mind most of the time and you’re damned hard to read.” 

Aya kept quiet. 

Yohji sighed and lowered his head to the pillow, giving up on trying to figure out the enigmatic redhead. His arm moved to curl around Aya’s narrow waist, cuddling the redhead close. Aya rested his head against Yohji’s shoulder, relaxing now that the tense moment had passed. 

“Aya?” 

“Mmm?” 

“You know I don’t love you, right?” 

Pressed against his shoulder, Yohji could not see Aya’s oddly unsurprised and calm expression. “Yes, I know.”


	5. Scene 5 – Disagreement & Ghostly Help

“This is victim number what?” 

“Seven,” Crawford replied. “He was murdered three days after the sixth victim, five days after the fifth. Our chef-killer seems to be slowing down.” 

“Or it could be he’s just getting tired of the same repertoire,” Yohji quipped. 

It was a fine Saturday morning, a week after Aya’s first night time visit. Yohji and Crawford were at a private boarding school for the mentally handicapped, three days after a volunteer teacher was murdered in his classroom at night. 

Investigation had hit a dead end. They had such frustratingly little amount of evidence that it was becoming ludicrous. In the hopes of unearthing possible new evidence, both of them returned to the latest scene of the crime. 

“What do we know of victim seven?” Crawford asked abruptly. 

“Twenty-seven, male, unassuming appearance and humble, according to his colleagues. Parents died a couple of years back and he inherited a small fortune from them. Devoted his time to teaching special children as a volunteer. He’s almost a saint, if you ask me.” 

“Perhaps not quite,” Crawford mused. “There must be something about him that drew the killer, just like the rest. People like victim seven tend to have secrets that are often at odds with his humble image of goodness.” 

By this time, they had entered the classroom where the volunteer teacher had been murdered. It was empty and cleaned as best as anyone could. But there were still faint bloodstains on the floor. The detectives spread out, searching through the classroom. 

“Look for things out of the usual,” Crawford instructed. “Things that can help hint what drew the killer to him.” 

Yohji pulled open a drawer and rummaged through it. “What if the volunteer teacher is exactly what he is? A humble, compassionate, down-to-earth man.” 

“Then I’ll eat my badge,” Crawford replied dryly. “I doubt it though. Humans are the most complicated species on earth. There isn’t a single person who doesn’t have masks, and everyone has motives and secrets.” 

“That sounds like something he would say,” Yohji remarked without thinking. 

Crawford paused in his search, sudden interest flashing in his brown eyes. “Sounds like who would say?” 

Yohji faltered a beat, realizing what he had unwittingly given away, and quickly plastered on his easygoing smile. “You. I was talking about you in the third person.” 

Crawford wasn’t that easily fooled, however. “No, you were talking about someone else.” Brown eyes narrowed behind thin-rimmed spectacles. “You weren’t talking about him, were you?” 

“Who?” Yohji asked innocently. 

“Fujimiya,” Crawford said the name in a very calm voice but Yohji could hear the undercurrent of disapproval. “You aren’t seeing him again, are you?” 

“If I am, what’s it to you?” 

Crawford’s expression remained inscrutable. He crossed the classroom to stand before a cool and challenging Yohji. “This may seem like a shock to you,” Crawford began quietly, “but not everyone is as liberal as you are. Certainly not within the police force.” 

“I ain’t that stupid to flaunt it to the whole world,” Yohji retorted just as quietly. 

“No, but sooner or later it will get out in the open, you can be sure of that. Fraternizing with a male strip dancer will only hurt your career. I hate to see your future go down the drain because of him.” 

“You dislike him, don’t you?” 

Crawford’s eyes hardened dangerously. “My personal opinion of him does not matter. My disapproval is purely professional and as a detective concerned about his partner. How long have you been seeing him?” 

“About a week,” Yohji admitted. “Not frequently though, mainly at night.” 

“Good. You can still stop this before it gets complicated.” 

“It’s not complicated,” Yohji grated. “We’re in it purely for the sex. I don’t confide in him and I certainly don’t love him. He knows that as well.” 

“It doesn’t matter if there are or aren’t feelings between the two of you. The fact is you interact with him on a personal basis. People will use that against you.” 

Yohji glared coolly at his partner. “What are you trying to say?” 

“Don’t play dumb with me. Fujimiya can easily blackmail you with threats to go public.” 

“He won’t.” 

“How would you know?” 

“He won’t.” Yohji repeated again with such deep unshakeable conviction that it made Crawford paused. 

Sighing in frustration, Crawford turned away. “Fine, be that way. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when he does betray your trust.” 

Yohji scowled angrily at his partner. He didn’t know why he felt he had to defend Aya’s honor but he felt it was important that he convince Crawford that Aya was not the deceitful type, convince Crawford to look past Aya’s occupation and see the person. Life had taught him this much: one could never judge a person by his social standing. 

Muffled sounds of things falling caught their attention. Both detectives’ gazes swung instantly to the closet, hands instinctively going for their guns. Argument forgotten, they exchanged a meaningful glance and stealthily approached the closet. While Yohji planted himself in front of the door, gun in hand, Crawford sidled to the side and yanked open the closet door in one firm pull. 

A high girlish scream of terror nearly shattered the detectives’ ears. 

Yohji winced even as he quickly holstered his gun, seeing the terrified teenaged girl huddled in the farthest corner of the closet. Beside him, Crawford gritted his teeth together; his expression pinched with pain. 

She was a young, pretty thing – pretty in a mentally fragile and childlike vulnerability despite being in her teens. Long blue hair were tied up in two ponytails and spilled thickly down to her shoulders. She wore the uniform of the school and her big blue eyes stared, frightened, up at the detectives from behind the teddy bear she was holding like a shield. 

“Sssh, sssh.” Yohji soothed the whimpering girl. “We’re not going to hurt you. We’re policemen, the good guys.” 

“P-policemen?” 

“Hai,” Yohji nodded encouragingly, smiling at the girl. “My name is Yohji and that old grouch behind me is Crawford. What is your name?” 

“T-Toto.” 

“Toto. That’s a pretty name. What are you doing hiding in the closet, Toto?” 

“Sensei tells me to come, but we aren’t allowed in class after lessons, so I hide.” 

“What is your sensei’s name?” 

“Masafumi-sensei.” 

Yohji and Crawford exchanged a startled glance. It was the name of the murdered volunteer teacher. This was getting interesting. 

Slowly, so as not to alarm the frightened girl, Yohji hunkered down on the floor next to her huddled form, careful not to make her feel cornered. “When did he tell you come?” 

“This morning.” 

Crawford arched a brow. The girl was obviously cracked. 

“Why did he ask you to come?” 

“Sensei says policemen are coming today. He wants me to tell them what I see.” 

“And what did you see?” 

Toto whimpered, burying her face in the fur of her teddy bear. 

“It’s all right,” Yohji soothed. “Just tell us. We won’t laugh or hurt you. Right, partner?” 

Crawford gave him a look that said he clearly didn’t think the girl was right in the mind. Yohji just glared at him long and steadily. Finally, with a sigh, Crawford replied grudgingly, “right.” 

“See,” Yohji smiled beatifically at his partner and turned back to the girl, her huge blue eyes peeking from behind her teddy bear. “You can tell us.” 

“I-I am here that night,” Toto began hesitatingly. “I am hiding here from the bullies. Then I hear sensei come in, with a woman. He draws her face.” Unexpectedly, Toto blushed and hid her face again in the plush fur of her teddy bear. “They...they do grown-up things!” 

Sex, Yohji mentally translated. 

“But sensei doesn’t seem to like it. He try to stop her but she doesn’t stop.” She began to cry. “Then bad woman turn his neck around. I hear the sound; it is awful.” 

A thrill of excitement ran down Yohji’s spine. This girl had witnessed the murder! Trying to keep his excitement under control, he asked her in a calm voice, “What else did you see?” 

“Bad woman touches sensei’s hair. She says it feels fine, says his brain is not delicious, and she leaves!” 

“Did you see anyone else with her?” 

Toto shook her head. 

“No one else at all?” Yohji persisted. She shook her head again. “Did you see her face, Toto?” 

“No.” Suddenly Toto straightened up, a look of alarm crossing her young face. “Sensei? Where are you going?” 

Yohji felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He looked at his partner whose expression mirrored his own unease. Green eyes searched the classroom quickly. There were only three of them here in the classroom, but Yohji swore he felt there was an additional person with them. 

“Sensei! Don’t go!” Toto scrambled from the closet. She turned several rounds, her gaze distant and searching frantically. “Don’t go! Don’t leave Toto alone!” 

A clockwork toy suddenly started marching in place. The wind chime tinkled softly though there wasn’t any breeze. 

“Sensei!” Toto suddenly darted past the two policemen towards the huge poster at the back of the classroom. “Don’t leave Toto! Sensei!” 

She tripped and fell, one hand ripping the poster apart in her attempt to regain her footing. A white paper fluttered down to the floor from its hiding place behind the poster. Yohji rushed forward to help Toto to her feet but froze when he saw the paper. 

It was a portrait of a woman.

* * *

“We must be nuts if we are going to take her word for it,” Crawford said in no uncertain terms. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.” 

“Then I’m sure it was a breeze that moved the wind chime,” Yohji rebutted sarcastically. 

Both men had returned to the police station and headed straight for the labs with the portrait of the woman. Poor Ken was ‘persuaded’ into the arduous task of matching the portrait to the police’s ‘missing person’ databank, a task very much akin to searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. The young detective was currently hunched over the computer terminal, trying to make himself invisible, while the partners argued – and had been arguing for the last half hour – behind him. 

“The girl is mentally retarded and not exactly right in her head as well. We can’t go arresting someone based on her account and ghostly help. The court will throw out the case.” 

“She witnessed the murder, Crawford.” 

“But she didn’t see the murderer’s face.” Crawford fought to maintain his calm. The encounter with Toto had rattled him more than he was willing to admit. “At any rate, it is too easy for anyone to twist her story. I’m not willing to take her word for it.” 

“Crawford!” 

“We are detectives, Kudoh. We deal in facts, not superstitions. Besides, we don’t even know if this portrait of the woman is the face of the murderer, or even if she exists.” 

“She does,” came the meek astonished voice. 

Surprised, Yohji and Crawford approached Ken who was gaping at the computer screen. Yohji felt a surge of vindictive triumph when he saw the report. Perhaps now Crawford would be willing to give Toto the benefit of the doubt. 

“Schon Kashiwagi,” Ken read aloud. “Age: twenty at the time of disappearance. She is currently taking a degree course in homemaking and gourmet-cooking at a private university.” 

Yohji looked closely at the report. The resemblance between the portrait and the photograph was startling. “When did she disappear?” 

“Three days before the first murder.” 

Expression carefully neutral, Yohji looked at his partner. Crawford glared at the computer, obviously hating to be proven wrong so dramatically. “Well?” 

“So it would seem she is our likely suspect,” Crawford admitted grudgingly. “But it still doesn’t explain the strength behind the murders.” 

Yohji grinned; glad that Crawford had more or less came to his way of thinking. “We’ll figure that one out when we bring her in for questioning.” 

“If we can find her.”


	6. Scene 6 – The Danger of Picking Up Girls

The bar was one of the trendiest and currently ‘the place to be’ for yuppies. No blaring music and flashing disco lights here; it was tasteful and classy, yet upbeat. It was Kikyou’s favorite place to unwind after a day’s work and have a couple of drinks with his buddy friends while checking out the girls. 

Tonight he was here with his usual pal, Koichiro Kase, and a new initiate to the drinking and flirting game, Noe Nagi – a student working as a part-time clerk at their company. The boy was old enough to be just above the legal age of drinking but young enough not to have done much indulging. After three bottles of sakes, he was halfway to being stoned and totally oblivious to his two colleagues debating which girl to bring home for the night. 

“How about that one? The one in blue cutoff-sleeves?” Kase was saying. 

“Iya. Looks like some character out of an anime. That girl in black is much better.” 

“That guy looks like her boyfriend.” 

“Damn. What about those two?” 

“They look like they come in a pair and way too frisky. Can you handle them?” 

Kikyou grinned at his pal, “There’s three of us.” 

“You mean two and a half,” Kase said wryly, eyeing the obviously drunk Nagi. “The boy can’t hold his liquor.” 

“Well, he’s not all gone yet. There’s still hope for him.” Kikyou reached for his sake but abruptly paused in mid-reach, dark eyes fixated on a spot behind Kase. 

Curious, Kase turned and felt his own breath catch in his throat. 

The woman who sat down at the table opposite theirs was gorgeous. Shiny tresses of dyed blond hair cascaded down about her shoulders, framing a very stunning face. She wore a black velvet choker and a little red dress that clung to every curve of her body and displayed long sexy legs in a pair of red high heels. 

As they stared, the woman shifted in her chair, deliberately crossing her legs, and gave them a sultry smile. She was perfect in every way – looks, figure and best of all, the right attitude. She was someone obviously at ease with her own sexuality and an old hand at these flings, which was good. 

Kase swallowed, feeling his groin tightened. He looked at his pal who had the same look on his face. Yep, this woman was the one for the night. 

One short hour later, the three young men were sequestered in Kase’s apartment, watching the woman – who introduced herself as Schon - cooking in the kitchen. Ignoring Nagi sitting slumped over in a drunken stupor between them, the other two men discussed the prize they had brought home. 

“She’s kinda strange, don’t you think?” Kase mused. “This is the first time my one-night fling actually wants to cook for me. You sure this will be all right?” 

“You’re not backing out on me now, are you?” Kikyou retorted. 

“No.” Kase paused, watching Schon stretched like a cat while stirring a pot of something. 

“It’ll be fine. Everyone entitled to her own quirks. Nothing to worry about.” Kikyou hurriedly stopped Nagi from reaching for the whisky bottle. “Yamero. You have enough for the night, Nagi-kun.” 

“There’s no butter in the fridge,” came the coy sensual murmur. 

The men looked up to see Schon leaning lazily against the doorframe, a sexy pout on her lips. 

“No butter?” Kikyou repeated stupidly. All of a sudden, his brain seemed unable to function properly. “Can you make do with something else?” 

“Iya. I must have butter.” The slim finger playing with a spaghetti strap of her dress was downright distracting. 

“I’ll go buy some butter,” Kase volunteered impulsively. He hastily scrambled to his feet and hurried to the front door. “Won’t take long!” 

A heated silence descended after the front door closed with a slam, to be broken by a groan of discomfort. 

“I need the bathroom,” Nagi mumbled, swaying drunkenly to his feet. 

“Down the hall, to your right.” Kikyou said distractedly. 

Kikyou was oblivious to Nagi’s unsteady rush to the bathroom, his lusty gaze fixated on the sultry woman chopping up some vegetables in the kitchen. Slowly, the realization that he was alone seeped into his lust-fogged brain. He swallowed, a tiny seed of an idea germinating in his brain. Now was his chance to put the moves on her. Rising to his feet, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Kikyou headed for the kitchen. “Schon-san.” 

She ignored him, humming happily away under her breath, as she went about cooking. She showed no reaction even as Kikyou stood very close behind her at the pretext of peering over her shoulder as she deftly chopped vegetables. 

“Schon-san.” Greatly daring, Kikyou reached up to touch the silky fall of hair. “What are you cooking?” 

The thud the knife made as she stabbed it point-down into the wooden chopping board made Kikyou jump. He remained frozen to the spot, hand hovering above her head, watching nervously as the sultry temptress suddenly turned dangerous. 

Schon turned around, and Kikyou couldn’t help but retreat before her lazy advance. There was something very wrong with the look in her eyes. 

“Why are all men the same?” Schon sighed. 

“Really, Schon-san, I mean nothing by it -” 

“Is sex all you think about?” Schon continued as though she didn’t hear him. Almost like an afterthought, she tripped Kikyou. 

Kikyou fell down, the breath knocking out of him as his back hit the ceramic floor with a thud. Before he could move, Schon straddled him, held him captive on the floor with strength uncommon to a female. For the first time since he brought her home, Kikyou felt a frisson of fear racing through him when he saw the manic grin of lust and anticipation distorting her beautiful face. 

Things suddenly fell into place with a click, the current media hysterics over the ‘Gourmet Killer’ coming to mind. 

Kikyou let out a whimper. “Let me go, Schon-san. Please, I swear I won’t tell anyone.” 

She gave him a bemused look and reached to undo his belt. Kikyou was too frozen with fear to stop her from pulling off his pants and underwear. 

“Relax,” she purred. Sliding down his body, she lowered her head and took him into her mouth. 

Fear-stricken as he was, Kikyou didn’t think he was in the mood for any of this. But to his horror, he felt himself hardening from the administration of her hot talented mouth. He tried to resist but Kikyou was especially weak when it came to sex, and this mingled with the fear was an incredible turn-on. Despite himself, a groan of enjoyment escaped him and his hips began to hitch upwards, trying to get her to deep-throat him. 

She released him abruptly, eyes glittering with a wild dark lust. Kikyou watched, dazed, as she straddled him again, this time over his raging erection. One hand disappearing under her dress, she guided his cock to the wet opening of her vulva in a non-too gentle grip. Kikyou had only a moment to realize she was not wearing any underwear before she impaled herself on his cock. 

All thoughts scattering to the winds, Kikyou moaned as he penetrated her tight warm sheath easily. He bucked upwards, driving deeper into her, but gasped when she forced his hips back down on the floor again with just the strength of her thighs alone. Clearly, she wanted to be in control and there was nothing Kikyou could do about it. 

Unable to take charge of the tempo, Kikyou simply laid there, riding the waves even as she rode him. Pants and the occasional gasps of enjoyment filled the air; the scent of their coupling mingled with the aroma of the simmering broth. It felt forever; it didn’t take long before Kikyou climaxed, spurting long and hard into her vagina. 

Schon came as well, shuddering deeply. Her hips began to slow its frenetic pace, languidly milking Kikyou of the last drops before stopping. Purring, she reached up to grab Kikyou’s collar and pulled him to sit up. Smiling at the dazed but frightened look in his eyes, Schon threaded her fingers through his hair. 

“Such coarse hair,” she murmured. “You must have a lot of bad thoughts in your head. Bad thoughts are delicious.” 

Her hands trailed downward with deceptively gentleness to his neck. Schon grinned when she heard the soft whimper from her victim. In one swift move, she broke Kikyou’s neck. Pleased, she studied the dead body sprawled beneath her, making no move to rise or release the limp penis still nestled within her. 

The sounds of a door opening reached her ears, as did the voice that sang out, “Schon-san. I’ve bought the butter.” 

Giggling lightly, Schon languidly rose to her feet. She tugged down her dress, ignoring the whitish trail of semen trickling down her inner thigh, and went to meet Kase. The unsuspecting man greeted her with a smile of anticipation. 

“Schon-san, I got your butter for you. Where is everyone?” 

Schon ignored his greeting. She was on a roll here and she was not going to stop. Ignoring the plastic bag Kase held out to her, she closed in and pushed him back onto the sofa. 

Taken aback by her sudden aggressiveness but nevertheless turned on, Kase eyed her in nervous anticipation. “Schon-san, surely there’s no rush.” 

She laughed. 

Kase wondered what was so funny. Then from the corner of his eyes, he saw his dead friend. Fear swamped through him, killing his desire and lust. With a yelp of terror, he tried to struggle out from behind her body but she was tenacious and held on with a crushing strength. 

In desperation and terror, Kase groped blindly for a weapon. And when his hand closed upon a heavy object, he swung it without hesitation. “Stay back!” 

Kase scrambled to his feet as the blow threw the insane woman off him. Still gripping the object, which turned out to be a dumb-bell, he watched in horrified disbelief as Schon stirred and rose to her feet as though the blow was nothing. But Kase knew his blow was hard; blood trailed down her face in a thin trickle. She should be dead, not standing and scowling at him like a sullen child denied her favorite toy. 

Schon struck, one leg lashing out to slam across Kase’s face. The terrified man went down, one hand cupping his face. Blood poured from his broken nose and the blinding pain in his cheek told him she had cracked his cheekbone. She took a menacing step towards him and unexpectedly collapsed. She stared uncomprehendingly at her foot bent at an unnatural angle; she had broken her ankle with that kick. 

Seizing the chance, Kase broke free. He bolted for the door, screaming hysterically for help, too terrified to even look back.


	7. Scene 7 – When Left With The Impossible, It Must Be True

Yohji sprinted up the stairs with Crawford by his side. There was no idle talk, both men intent on the raid. The murder was committed almost half hour ago, more than enough time for the killer to make his, no, her escape, though they hoped that was not the case. If the hysterical victim were right, a broken ankle and a severe head injury would seriously hamper the murderess’s movements. 

Other police officers were already there, covering all possible exits. Ken was already there with two other officers, outside the target door. Nodding to his young colleague, Yohji took up his position. Crawford smoothly stepped forward and kicked the door open. Without missing a beat, both partners burst into the apartment, followed by the rest of the unit. In unison, they swept through the rooms, swiftly securing each room before proceeding further. 

Yohji halted abruptly when they finally entered the living room. Behind him, he heard Crawford’s sudden sharp intake of breath. 

Leaning against the wall, fighting to draw each wheezing breath was the woman from the portrait named Schon. Her dyed blond hair was mussed and a thin trail blood marred her pretty face. Other than that, she was completely ashen and there was a dulled, terrified look of bewilderment in her eyes. It struck Yohji then that she looked as though she had just woken up from a deep sleep to a scary reality. 

She stepped, no, limped weakly towards them, mouth opening to say something. Yohji could barely discern two words, “help me,” in time before she collapsed right before their stunned eyes. 

Grimly, Yohji knelt down beside the still form and gingerly felt for a pulse. There was none. With a sigh, Yohji was about to stand up when he noticed her skull was misshaped, cracked inward like eggshell, and the hair around that area bloodied and matted. 

Curious, Yohji carefully pulled back the cracked area, surprised when part of it came free and he could actually look into her skull. What he saw, or rather did not see, make him paled. His gaze darted to his partner, wanting confirmation that he wasn’t going nuts, and found it in the tension in Crawford’s jaw line. 

Schon’s brain was missing as well. But in her case, it was impossible. She was alive until a few minutes ago and died before their eyes. There was no way she could have lived, even for a couple of minutes, without her brain. 

No. Way. 

No. Fucking. Way.

Agitated and plain shaken by the impossible discovery, Yohji rose to his feet and began to prowl the apartment. There must be an explanation for this. Schon could not have been the murderer; the real killer must be someone else, who somehow managed to escape them. 

“Kudoh, calm down!” 

Yohji ignored his partner’s order. He barged into the kitchen and looked questioningly at Ken hunkered over a man’s dead body. The young detective shook his head. 

Nope, not this one, he’s dead. The killer must be somewhere else. 

Yohji frantically combed through the apartment again. He almost missed the tightly curled up form behind the toilet bowl in the bathroom if his ears hadn’t caught the soft sound of a sob. Yohji froze at the doorway, staring at the young man shivering violently next to the toilet. 

Was it him? No, Yohji decided quickly. The look in the young man’s eyes was of someone sliding into shock. 

“Get me the paramedics! Now!” he yelled to his colleagues. Grabbing the nearest towel, he hurried over to the terrified young man’s side. “Oi, hang in there, buddy. You’re all right now.” 

He quickly wrapped the towel around the shivering young man, brushing the flop of dark brown hair out of his face to see clearly the glazed and terrified expression. The young man looked like a rabbit caught in a trap. Poor thing, he must have witnessed the murder as well. 

Yohji wrapped an arm around the thin shoulders, trying to warm the chilled body up as best as he could. “Snap out of it. I’m with the police. You’re all right now, safe.” 

One arm stretched out from beneath the towel, groping blindly, until the young man had Yohji’s shoulder in a firm grip. 

“What is your name?” Yohji asked, trying to make him talk and stop sliding further into shock. 

“N-Nagi. Noe Nagi.” 

“Nagi, eh? I’m Detective Kudoh Yohji. Nagi, did you see what happened?” 

The young man refused to say anything. 

“The apartment’s clear,” Crawford entered the bathroom. “No reports of any suspicious character within three blocks’ range.” 

“They just have to search further then,” Yohji replied irritably. “The killer couldn’t have gotten far.” 

“Kudoh, the woman was the killer.” 

“The woman also happened to be dead and her brain missing, just like the other victims. How can she be the killer?!” 

“We know she is, from Kase’s account.” 

“The man was hysterical!” 

“Calm down, Yohji!” Crawford barked. “Look at it this way. Every clue we found so far pointed to Schon being the murderer. Her education, the time she went missing, the portrait and now this! You can’t deny that she is the murderer.” 

“Then explain this. How is a person able to live with her brain missing?” 

Crawford glared at him, knowing full well he couldn’t explain the unexplainable. “No matter the reason or circumstances,” he said stiffly, “Schon Kashiwagi is the murderer.” 

Crawford stormed off, leaving behind a bristling partner. Yohji was fairly shaking with the effort of restraining himself from going after his partner and thrashing things out with him. Now was simply not the time nor place for them have a dispute. 

“Beautiful...” the soft murmur of admiration reached Yohji’s ears. 

Suddenly he became aware of fingers playing with his hair, and had been doing so for some minutes already. Yohji’s gaze swung back to Nagi, stiffening when he saw the dreamy look of exultation and bliss upon Nagi’s face. It was as though the young man had found an unexpected treasure he had been unknowingly searching for a long time. 

“Your hair...” Nagi cooed, “Is so beautiful.” 

Then Yohji saw it, saw the twin rivers of clear liquid flowing down Nagi’s cheeks, too much and too swift to be tears. It was as though, instead of tears, water was being spilled.


	8. Scene 8 – Not Over Yet

The sun was high in the sky when Aya woke up. Sighing sleepily, he snuggled deeper into the arms that cradled him in a lax embrace, enjoying the sense of security and comfort his lover never failed to give him. 

Violet eyes drifted opened and lingered on the slumbering face next to his. The usual cold mask Aya wore was absent, replaced by an uncharacteristic soft smile of contentment that would take Yohji’s breath away if he saw it. But he didn’t, lost as he was in dreamscape, and such were the only times Aya allowed himself to indulge in his feelings for the blond detective. 

Aya was glad to see the lines of worry and stress gone from Yohji’s face; his lover looked almost younger in repose. The case had been wearing Yohji down and it frustrated Aya to no end that Yohji kept refusing his help. All Aya could do was to make Yohji forget about the murders for a few hours every night for the past week, to the best of his abilities. For Yohji, Aya was willing to be the distraction he needed. 

It didn’t matter even if Yohji did not love him. 

Aya’s only desire was to be with him. And he would never tell Yohji, nor woo his love. Life had taught him never to ask for something that could not be given, it would only end in heartbreak. Besides he wasn’t suitable ‘mate-material’ for the detective; those like him seldom were. So Aya treasured every moment he got to spend with Yohji, seizing every chance he had to indulge his heart. 

Today was a boon. It was Yohji’s first day off in a long while and his chance to sleep in, which gave Aya more time than usual to watch him. Yohji had mumbled something about the case being solved when he returned late last night and tumbled straight into bed, too exhausted to do anything else. It was the best news Aya had heard in a long while. Since he didn’t have to go to work as well, Aya had a whole day to spend with Yohji and he wondered in idle anticipation how they would spend the day together – if they would spend the day together. 

Carefully, trying not to wake Yohji, Aya brushed back the errant fall of blond hair from Yohji’s face. Very lightly, he traced the sleeping features with his fingertips, memorizing the angles and planes of his lover’s face. He froze when the green eyes suddenly opened, catching him unaware, and fixed him with a sleepy stare. 

For a long moment, neither moved nor speak. Aya waited with abated breath for Yohji to comment on his touches and Yohji trying his best to clear the sleep from his mind. 

“Ohayo,” he finally mumbled through a yawn. 

Relaxing, Aya withdrew his hand and schooled his expression. “Ohayo.” 

“What time is it?” 

“Half-past ten.” Aya pillowed his head on his arm, watching as Yohji sat up and stretched like a cat. The blanket fell away, putting his toned and tanned body on display for an appreciative Aya. The blond turned, smirking when he saw the look on Aya’s face. 

“Enjoying the view?” 

“Of course. You said something about solving the case last night?” 

Yohji’s smirk faded and he looked away. “Hai.” 

Frowning, Aya sat up as well. His lover had a dark brooding expression that was unlike him. “Isn’t that a good thing?” 

“It is...” Yohji’s voice trailed off. Then he sighed, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s me but there’s something about this case that still bothers me. The pieces don’t fit quite exactly. I still feel as though I’m missing something, something vital.” 

Nestling close, Aya linked his arms about Yohji’s waist and rested his cheek against his back, trying to ease Yohji’s doubts. “I’m sure you would figure it out soon.” 

Yohji stroked the pale arms embracing him. “You have such faith in me, Aya.” 

“Hn.” He placed his palm upon Yohji’s chest. “You have a kind heart and a sharp mind. That is why I stay with you.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Love me,” Aya finished for him. “So what?” 

Stealthily, Aya reached down below the sheets. He smirked when he heard Yohji’s sudden inhale of breath as he stroked the semi-hard cock he found. Very quickly, Yohji’s cock hardened, filling his pale hand with its heated length. He grinned when Yohji shifted uncomfortably, legs parting to accommodate his strokes better. Stretching, he lazily nuzzled Yohji’s ear, licking the curve with a wet tongue. 

“Isn’t it better this way?” Aya whispered heatedly into Yohji’s ear. 

Making a sound between a groan and a growl, Yohji turned suddenly and pushed Aya back down onto the bed. He grasped Aya’s slender wrists and pinned them above his head; one insistent knee inserted between pale thighs. Green eyes, smoldering with kindled lust and amusement, met sultry violet. 

“How do you want it?” Yohji asked in a low growl. 

Aya licked his suddenly dry lips. The predatory look in Yohji’s eyes sent a thrill of excitement down his spine, made him even harder. 

Very deliberately, Yohji lowered himself upon Aya’s pinned form, chest against chest, hips against hips. Their erections pressing against each other, Yohji gave a sudden sharp thrust. Aya gasped, flushing as a bolt of hot pleasure sizzled through him. Lowering his head, Yohji nipped playfully at the shell of Aya’s ear. 

“Do you want it hard and fast?” he whispered. 

Yohji thrust again, this time moving maddeningly slow and languid. Aya groaned again, writhing under the assault. He tried to arch up, but Yohji pressed down upon him heavily, restricting his freedom. Only his legs were free and they spread wide, knees pulled up and feet flat against the sheets, submitting completely to Yohji. And Yohji was quick to take advantage, pressing even closer and forcing Aya’s legs to spread even further. 

“Or slow and long?” 

Aya couldn’t decide. There was no way he could think with their cocks rubbing together in that sweet hot rhythm. Yohji kept alternating the pace, sometimes fast and forceful, then he would unexpectedly slow down; the unpredictable pleasure drove Aya quite nuts. The rush of excitement was heightened by his helplessness; Aya loved it when Yohji overwhelmed him in this manner, pinned him down and just dominated him with his lust, demanding the redhead to take it all. 

“Well, Aya?” Yohji rasped. “How do you want it?” 

“T-take me. Just take me...” 

Infuriatingly, Yohji stopped completely, pulling a moan of dismay from the redhead. “Uh-huh. You have to choose, Aya. Fast or slow?” 

The blond laughed when Aya started swearing at him. Unexpectedly, he gave another sharp but short thrust. Aya shuddered and writhed helplessly, trying to get Yohji to fill him. 

“Well?” 

“H-hard,” Aya finally gasped out. “I want it hard and fast. Don’t make me wait.” 

Yohji smiled. Swiftly sitting up, he snatched a new condom and the tube of lube from the bedside table and readied himself. Pinning Aya again to the bed, he shifted his hips and without warning, thrust hard and deep through the tight pucker and into Aya’s hot depths. 

Aya shrieked, arching upward, as pain-pleasure seared through him. Without waiting for him to adjust to his entry, Yohji began to move, hard and forceful. Another moan escaped Aya as Yohji changed the angle of his entry and hit his sweet spot every time. He writhed helplessly beneath Yohji; his wrists were still pinned but Aya wrapped his legs around Yohji’s waist, trying to bring him deeper. 

“Yes...” he breathed. “Take me, Yohji. Harder. Make me yours.” 

“Mine...” Green gaze locked with violet, glittering with heat and possession. “Mine...Aya!” 

With a shout, Yohji came violently, spilling deep within Aya’s warmth. Releasing Aya’s wrists, he reached down and fisted Aya’s erection. The redhead cried out at the forceful strokes, hips jerking spasmodically as he came as well, shooting over his belly. 

Panting hard, Yohji rested limply in Aya’s embrace. Aya cradled him close, refusing to let him go even when Yohji finally gathered the strength to make the effort. “Stay,” he said softly. 

“I’m probably getting too heavy for you,” Yohji mumbled next to his neck. 

“I want to feel you inside me for a while longer.” 

Yohji paused uncertainly, and then gave in, shifting until he covered the smaller man, fitting the curves of their bodies as best as he could without leaving Aya’s warm depths. 

“God, I’m tired.” Yohji said drowsily. 

“Then sleep.” Aya reached up and stroked a hand through his lover’s blond hair. “You earned it.” 

He planted a tender kiss against the blond hair when Yohji hugged him in his slumber, smiling softly when he heard the snore escaping his lover. 

* * *

It was early afternoon when Yohji woke up again and felt rested enough to get out of bed. He told Aya to get dressed; he wanted to bring the redhead to a place. 

Curious and secretly happy that Yohji was taking him out, Aya pulled on his clothes in record time. He wondered where they were going but Yohji refused to tell him, saying he would know once they got there. As it turned out, Yohji took him to the city museum. 

“Yohji, I didn’t know you appreciate art,” he murmured. 

“I don’t. But there’s something I want to show you.” Yohji led the way through the galleries until they reached a fountain. 

The fountain had a full-sized sculpture of a classical Greek man in the nude, except the top half of the statue’s head was gone. It was made of white polished marble and obviously very old. 

Aya glanced curiously at the statue. “Is this what you want to show me?” 

“This was the last place Schon’s friends saw her before she disappeared. Three days later, she turned up again as the serial murderer.” Yohji turned somberly to Aya. “According to her family and friends, Schon was a quiet, demure and obedient girl. She wouldn’t just up and run away, much less commit those crimes. It just doesn’t seem to fit her personality.” 

Aya looked at the statue for a long moment and said, “Something evil ran from her head.” 

“What?” 

“Schon is a good girl, demure and always defer to her parents’ wishes. She was brought up to believe that is the way a proper girl should behave. Schon, like anyone else, has desires. But because she always deferred to her parents’ wishes, her own wishes and desires have been repressed. That made her weak and attracted the wrong kind of attention. When the evil settled in her, it unleashed all her suppressed desires. It was a temptation she couldn’t resist and that’s how the evil dominated her. In the end, the evil fed on her suppressed desires and twisted them further to suit its own tastes.” 

“So what is this evil?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t sense a face to go with the feelings I get.” Aya stepped close to Yohji, placing one hand on his lover’s arm. “But it ran from Schon when she died; it didn’t perish with her.” 

A chill ran down Yohji’s spine when he heard that. 

Violet eyes peered gravely up at him. “It’s not over yet, Yohji.”


	9. Scene 9 – The Thing About Brains

Yohji hated the morgue. 

Okay, maybe hate was too strong a word to use. Dislike came closer to it. His inability to get used to the silence and sterile white environment could not be overcome despite his best efforts. There was a sense of finality about the morgue – every time a steel fridge door shut its occupant in, it declared the person’s death more loudly, more decisively than a funeral could ever do. Every time he watched the good doctor Bishop performed an autopsy, he wondered with morbid fascination how long before it would be his turn to be on the table. After all, even in Japan, working as a cop was still a hazardous occupation. 

He and his partner arrived just as Bishop had finished the autopsy. The good doctor greeted them with a smile, “Perfect timing.”

“What did you find?” Crawford said without preamble.

“Something unusual from the norm and out of the ordinary in the context of your case.”

“Like what?”

“The girl still has her brain.”

Yohji blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“It shrank and dried up in one corner of her skull, less than a quarter of its usual size. That’s why you thought her skull was empty. It took me some time to find it.” Bishop gestured vaguely to a preservation jar. “I have it there if you want to take a look.”

Yohji shuddered. “No thanks.”

“You have to put it back, Bishop.” Crawford said. “Her parents are coming tomorrow to collect the body.”

Bishop sighed in disappointment. “I suppose it’s going to be a cremation.”

“Yes.”

“Pity. I would like to keep such a rarity.”

“Never mind that. What I want to know is how did she survive with a shrunken brain?” 

“Medically speaking, it’s an impossibility.” Bishop’s muffled voice became clearer as he removed his mask and scrubs. “The girl shouldn’t have lived for as long as she did. I also found something else. Her brain is riddled with ulcers.”

“Ulcers?” Yohji frowned. “As in brain ulcers?”

“Yes. Poor girl must have had such a headache. The pain from the constant migraine alone would have crippled her.”

Yohji was quick to see the connection, or rather the incongruent connection. “So how did a slip of a girl, with a shrunken brain and a constant migraine go around killing her victims?”

Crawford sighed irritably. “She nearly killed two men, and according to Kase-san’s account, she was in fine shape when she seduced them.” 

“This autopsy report doesn’t agree with her behavior in the victim’s account. It might just get the case thrown out of court.”

“Why don’t you let the attorneys worry about that?” Bishop pointed out. He smiled at the detectives. “After all, we have the murderer and she’s dead. I say the case is closed for you.”

To his surprise, neither man appeared to be happy about that fact. “Nani? Am I missing something?”

Crawford frowned and looked away, arms folded across his chest, a clear sign of ‘I do not want to talk’. It was Yohji who volunteered to explain. “We are having a disagreement.”

“Sou ka.”

“Crawford is all for closing the case since we have caught the serial killer. But I feel otherwise. Call it a hunch or whatever, but I don’t think this young lady is our killer.”

“Damn it, Kudoh.” Crawford snarled, his patience clearly at an end. “The evidence from Kase-san’s apartment, his own account, all point to Schon Kashiwagi as the serial killer. What more do you want? A written confession from the girl herself?”

“Look at her Crawford. She’s a slender girl. Where the hell did she get the strength to crack Kase’s jaws with one kick? And if she did –“

“IF?!”

“- If she did, then she must be under some kind of influence,” Yohji continued doggedly. “We read her background. Does she strike you as a psychopath?”

Crawford dearly wanted to throttle his partner but he settled for taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I’m just saying the pieces don’t fit, that’s all.”

Bishop hummed thoughtfully. “I think the both of you may be right. Schon Kashiwagi did murder Kikyou and attacked Kase as well, but the impossibility in the face of her physical build do suggest external influence.”

Crawford gave him a dark look. “I hate it when you try to do our job.”

“Just trying to put things into perspective for you, Inspector.”

There was a polite knock on the door and an assistant poked her head in. “Detective Kudoh? You have a call on line 347.”

“Thanks.” Kudoh crossed the room for the phone. “Moshi-moshi. Detective Kudoh speaking.”

“Yohji,” came the softly purred voice.

“Hello? Who is this?” There was something about the voice that set his alarms off. 

“Schon was standing by that statue, wasn’t she?”

“Are you Naoe Nagi? How did you know about that?” Yohji demanded.

“Think, Yohji. I know you’ll understand.”

“Nani?!” 

“I left a present for you,” said the lazy voice.

“Present?”

“Room 1009, Hotel Excellence. I left your present in there, Yohji.”


	10. Scene 10 – Copycat! Copycat?

Dread was a cold seething lump in Yohji’s stomach, churning and twisting, making him ill. The restless writhing increased with every mile to the hotel until he was a bundle of raw adrenaline and frayed nerves. The moment the car skidded to a halt at the curb, he was out of the vehicle and dashing into the hotel. The next few minutes rushed by as he blatantly used his police authority to bully the front desk manager’s arm into giving them access to room 1009. What they found made the front desk manager bolted from the room puking, and Crawford to uncharacteristically punch the wall in sudden rage. 

It was grisly, bloodier. There was a contained neatness in the previous murders but not this time. This time the violence and savagery of the crime overwhelmed the place. Blood splattered everywhere – across the bed, the floor, the walls and furniture. The sheets were literally soaked in it and it was used to scrawl ‘For my beloved Yohji’ across the wall. But the worst thing was the body: it was female – the first in the long string of victims – sitting upright in the blood-soaked bed with her glassy eyes open and her brain cradled neatly in her lap. 

Yohji stared, horrified but at the same time, oddly vindicated. Finally he had proof, finally the pieces fit. “Brains did this,” he said aloud. “Somehow, somehow he escaped from Schon’s head and got into Nagi’s.”

Crawford glared at him as though he had gone mad. “What the hell are you on about? This is a copycat!”

The hotel room phone rang. Yohji lunged for it but his partner was faster. 

“Do you like my present?” 

“Why the hell are you copying Schon’s murders?!” 

Nagi chuckled. “I knew you would say that. Baka.”

“Shit! He’s watching us!” Yohji yanked the curtains apart.

Through the window they saw Nagi Naoe sitting on top of a huge ventilation shaft on the opposite wing of the hotel, right across from them. The young man, dressed in a slick black jacket and pants, smiled and waved jauntily at them with the hand carrying a cell phone.

Crawford scowled. 

Yohji threw open the window and looked out. The ledge didn’t go around to the other wing of the hotel. Without a word, he bolted out of the hotel room to find an alternative route. “Stall him!”

Crawford didn’t need to be told twice. He glared at the maliciously buoyant young man, his anger dissipating allowing his focus to return. “Who’s the girl?”

Nagi shrugged, “Don’t know. I picked her up from the streets.” He carelessly threw away the cell phone and smoothly got to his feet, stretching lazily like a cat. His grin was one of satiated pleasure and bliss.

“I’m having a fantastic time, Inspector.” He spread his arms to encompass the city spread out before him. “This world is so wonderful. It’s really another heaven.” 

“You’re sick.”

Nagi laughed. “I kill for pleasure, but your society watches my killings with fascination. So who’s sick really? The doer or the watcher?”

“Don’t change the subject. Why are you copycatting the murders?”

“Inspector, Inspector, you still does not get it, do you? What is that phrase – ‘there are more thing in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy’.”

Crawford’s glasses flashed dangerously. He had just about had it with the cocky sadistic bastard.

Nagi suddenly turned, his smirk transforming into a broad grin of joy when he spotted Yohji carefully making his way across another ledge towards him. “Yohji…”

Yohji had his gun out and he did not hesitate in aiming it at Nagi. “Stay where you are.”

“‘I let myself drift in a current; I wonder where I’ll end up’.” Nagi smiled a secretive smile. “I know that answer now.”

Clambering onto the ventilation shaft, Yohji cautiously approached the manic boy. “You’re under arrest.”

“I’m feeling so good, Yohji.” Nagi continued as though he hadn’t heard him. “So excited at seeing you again.”

“Shut up or I’m going to shoot,” Yohji snapped.

Nagi glided closer and pressed his forehead lightly against the barrel of Yohji’s gun. “Go ahead. Shoot me.”

“You-“ 

Whatever Yohji was going to say was cut off when Nagi, in a move too fast for him to see, grabbed his gun hand and squeezed. He gasped aloud as pain shot through his arm and tried to pull free. But the boy was stronger than he looked – much, much too strong. 

Another vicious twist caused him to cry out. Nagi yanked him close, making him stumble. The boy grabbed him in a too-tight embrace and twisted, forcing him to clutch at Nagi for balance. Nagi’s grip was so tight that he could not even struggle to break free. For one of the few times in his life, Yohji knew fear as he stared into the boyish face with the mad smile and dead eyes. 

Yohji heard the purring whisper, “I missed you,” before Nagi kissed him, full on the mouth, to his horrified surprise.

It was a kiss much too intimate, much too demanding and much too familiar. Yohji struggled to break free. He felt like he was kissing himself, or rather someone so much like himself that it terrified him. 

Just as sudden, Nagi broke the kiss and shoved him away. Yohji stumbled and fell, curling up and cradled his much-abused arm protectively against his torso. Spitting to get rid of the terrible taste of the kiss, Yohji glared up in revulsion and fear at Nagi. “What are you?”

Nagi laughed. “Don’t you know? You should know from our kiss.”

From the corner of his eyes, Yohji saw a flash of white as Crawford lunged to tackle the psychotic young man. He watched, incredulous, as Nagi easily tossed the large man aside – right across the narrow gap into the rooftop parking lot of the neighboring building.

Crawford landed unceremoniously on top of a car, slamming into it with so much force that the roof buckled and the windscreen shattered. Limply, he slid off into a crumpled heap on the cement ground. 

“Pathetic.” Nagi blew Yohji a kiss. “See you around, Yohji.”

As both injured cops watched in stunned amazement, Nagi took a running leap and vaunted to the building across the street – an impossible jump across an impossible distance. 

Yohji staggered to his feet, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Across the street, Nagi landed safely on his feet. He spun round and sketched a theatric bow, laughing all the while. 

Superhuman, the thought suddenly popped into Yohji’s mind. Super abilities, super cruelty…Aya’s right. I’m dealing with a superhuman. 

“Shoot him!” The shouted order caught Yohji’s attention. He looked over to the neighboring building. Crawford, face lined with pain, was grimly hauling himself to his feet. His brown eyes, though, were hard with anger and determination.

“Shoot him, Kudoh!”

Yohji lifted his gun but he didn’t open fire. The laws were very clear on this point: The cops were forbidden to shoot at an unarmed person no matter the provocation. 

“Never mind about the rules!” Crawford knew exactly what was going through his partner’s head. “Just shoot him! Bring him down before he kills again!”

That was all the encouragement Yohji needed. Jaws set, he carefully took aim at the psychotic young man preparing to jump across to another building. Just as Nagi leapt, he fired. He saw the figure twisted in mid-air and felt a rush of victory. He had gotten the killer good. 

Yohji exchanged a triumphant look with his partner and the both of them hurried for the exits. 

The triumphant feeling didn’t last long. It gave way to dismay and renewed frustration when they both finally arrived at the place where they expected to find a body but all they found was nothing and just some blood streaking the side of the building. 

“What the hell-?” Yohji swore. He looked up the building and both ways down the alley. “He couldn’t have survived the fall!”

“Inspector, Detective!” 

They turned as Manx and Ken ran up to them, having been alerted through the police radio.

“What the hell is going on?” Manx demanded. “First you tell me of a copycat murder, then 911 gets calls from panicked civilians about a gunshot.”

“We wounded the murderer,” Crawford informed in a clipped tone. 

The tinkling of a bicycle bell caught their attention. 

“There he is!” Yohji shouted.

Nagi, seated on a bicycle, waved to them from the mouth of the alley and pedaled away. 

They gave chase immediately. Dashing out into the street, they saw Nagi disappearing into the traffic, pedaling too fast for someone with a bullet wound.

Yohji made a mad dash for his car, Crawford at his heels. He didn’t noticed Manx and Ken heading for their own car as he pulled away from the curb, burning rubber. He was so focused on catching Nagi that he didn’t even know that Ken lost control of his car at a sharp turn and crashed into another car. He was hell-bent on catching Nagi. He had to catch Nagi. Somehow he knew if he failed this time, the killings would become much more personal. 

They pursued Nagi for a long way into a residential condominium estate. Despite being on a bicycle, the boy managed to retain a good lead all the way. As his car screeched to a halt in the estate’s parking lot, Yohji saw only the abandoned bicycle and no sign of Nagi. 

Both cops got out of the car, trained eyes scanning the quiet estate. 

“We have to split up to find him,” Yohji stated.

“I’ll take the rooftops, you take the grounds.” Crawford pushed his glasses up, the lens glinting ominously under the sunlight. “If you see him, shoot him.”

“Be careful. You got hurt.”

Crawford smirked. “But I’m not the one who got kissed.”

Yohji glared at him. Without another word, he stalked off to the nearest block.

Crawford, still smirking, headed off in the other direction. The condominium estate, like every other residential areas, was quiet in mid-afternoon with hardly anyone around. He quickly scouted around the dumping area and stairwells, hoping to surprise the psychotic killer out of hiding. 

He did surprise someone. Not Nagi, but a young boy who yelped in fright when Crawford suddenly popped into his view, gun brandished in his face. 

Crawford glared at the boy. 

Definitely still schooling, with blond hair and wide blue eyes. The boy wore T-shirt, a dark blue hooded windbreaker, khaki shorts with suspenders and red canvas shoes. Headphones dangled around his neck. What the hell was the kid doing out of school at this time of the day? 

Gulping, the boy scrambled to his feet and scurried away, far away from Crawford’s unforgiving glare. 

Mentally shaking his head at the youngsters nowadays, Crawford resumed his search. 

At the other block, Yohji wasn’t having any luck. Swearing, he raked a hand through his hair in frustration. He knew he had nicked the boy good. It wasn’t a fatal wound if Nagi could still ride a bike, but it had to be bleeding enough to slow the boy down eventually. Or even leave Yohji a trail to follow. But he found nothing. It was as though the boy had somehow disappeared into thin air. For all his superhuman abilities, Yohji didn’t think disappearing into thin air was part of his repertoire. 

The police radio in the car crackling in the distance reached Yohji’s ears. He jogged back to the car to answer the call – also, he needed more men to search the area. 

“This is Detective Kudoh-“ 

Too late, he sensed the presence behind him. An unnaturally strong arm snaked round and pressed against his neck, holding him in a stranglehold. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even turn his head and he was fairly choking. 

From the backseat, Nagi leaned forward. “Why do you look for me, Yohji?”

“You’re a murderer,” Yohji gasped out. “You have to be stopped before more people die.”

“People? They are just sheep, mindless sheep. This world is filled with too many of them. One less wouldn’t even make a dent in the population.”

“Only a psycho would say that.”

Nagi laughed. “Hypocrite. You don’t give a shit about these mindless sheep if they live or die. Admit it, it’s the thrill you are addicted to, the thrill of the chase, the morbid fascination with the crime, the instinctive understanding you have of the criminal’s mind. Admit it, that’s why you became a cop.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Yohji wheezed out, trying futilely to escape but choked as Nagi tightened his hold. He cringed as the boy’s hot lips pressed against his ear.

“On the contrary, I know you. I know you from the moment I touched your hair. Such beautiful hair. I know you don’t give a damn even if the world goes to hell in a hand basket. I know you are apathetic on a good day and cruel on a bad day. I know you’re not the altruistic type because you simply couldn’t sympathize with anyone’s plight. You just help because a normal person is supposed to help.” 

Nagi softly nipped his ear. “So you see, I know you. What I didn’t know was that I was looking for you until I met you. I hadn’t realized there was someone out there who was so much like me. You have no idea how happy that makes me, Yohji.”

By now, Yohji was close to panic. The things Nagi was saying…they struck a little too close to the truth. He spotted the gearshift and desperately lunged for it. He had to get away from this monster! Slamming the gas pedal, he threw the car into full forward motion at full speed. 

The distance was short but the impact was terrific as the car crashed into a tree. The impact nearly threw Nagi forward into the windscreen and slammed Yohji against the wheel and the breath out of him. It did, however, free him from Nagi’s stranglehold and that was what he wanted.

On the verge of passing out, Yohji tumbled out of the car, weakly crawling away from the car. His vision was spotted with black and darkening. He vaguely heard several gunshots and the sounds of glass shattering but it all seemed somewhat muffled. 

Was that a car driving off? He didn’t know, much less care. All he wanted to do right now is lay still and try his damnest to get his head to stop swimming. 

If only…

…someone would stop…

…shouting…into…

…his ear…


	11. Scene 11 – The Kindness of an Addiction

Waking up in a hospital was his least favored method. Being stuck in one for ‘observation’ – so said the doctor – was right at the top of his list of dislikes, below morgues. No matter which hospital it was, the walls were always white and the food yucky. And there’s always nothing to do. 

Yohji stared blankly at the afternoon news on the tiny television set. The news being broadcast was the same as the news in the morning and yesterday – people are still dying because of violence and irrationality. The first female victim of the serial killer and the chase that landed him in a hospital were still hot topics.

He couldn’t give a damn. 

Yohji didn’t care for the speculations, the accusations, the theories and god-knows-what. They were all wrong. They hadn’t experienced first-hand the maniac intelligence behind the mind, the strangely emotional sensitivity the killer possessed and the terrible cruelty. Whatever he was, he wasn’t a common psychopath. 

Even now, alone and secured in the police hospital, Yohji couldn’t help but feel hunted. He could still see those dead mad eyes every time he went to sleep, could still hear those taunting but true words in his mind. 

No, most definitely not a common psychopath. And now bearing a sick fixation for him.

For the first time ever, Yohji could understand how victims of stalkers felt. 

The knock on his room door brought him out of his dark reverie. It was instantly forgotten when he saw who had come to visit him. 

Murase Asuka-sensei stood at the open doorway, a white doctor’s coat over her spunky pants suit and a bright smile. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite doctor,” Yohji drawled, gifting her with his rakish smile.

“How are you doing, Detective Kudoh?” Asuka inquired as she approached his bed.

“Bored.” Yohji deliberately looked her over. “Are you here to cheer me up?”

Asuka laughed. “Down boy. You’re in no condition to be frisky.”

“Well, if you are not here to cheer me up, what are you here for?”

“Doing a routine check-up.”

“Ooh, sounds interesting. So how do you want me?”

Asuka lightly tapped his head with her pen. “Flirt. Be careful or I’ll jab you in the butt with a needle.”

Green eyes laughing, Yohji grinned unrepentantly back at her. “I look forward to it.” 

Yohji liked her at once. An attractive self-confident woman with a sense of humor and comfortable with these flirting games was a rarity in the conservative medical society in Japan. Add to the fact that she was out-spoken and genuinely interested in him only add to her attractiveness.

“Well, your concussion is gone. Ribs look to be healing nicely. You can be discharged in the next few days.”

“For that, I’ll take you out for dinner.” Yohji said happily.

Asuka gave him a deliberately cheery smile. “You’re on home rest for a week.”

“What?!”

“Those ribs need time to heal and no way are you able to run after criminals in your condition.”

“You got to be joking.”

“Sad to say, I’m not.” 

“Asuka-sensei, I got a psychopath to catch. How about desk duty?”

“Uh-huh. You can’t put pressure on those ribs yet. Home rest, boyo, or hospital stay - your pick.”

Yohji eyed her with a gleam in his green eyes. “Fine, on one condition – you do the house-calls.” 

Asuka arched a playful brow. “Is that a dare, Detective Kudoh?”

“No house-calls, no home rest, Asuka-sensei.”

“You got a deal.”

“So dinner at my place?” 

“Behave, Detective, and I might just reward you.”

Yohji laughed. Boy, she’s something all right. He could foresee an easy, lively relationship in the future.

The blond detective caught sight of someone standing outside his window. He blinked, startled to see that it was Aya, silent and still and with an odd expression on his pale face.

“I see you got a visitor.”

“Wha-?” Yohji turned back to Asuka, mentally wincing when he spied the speculative look in her keen eyes. 

“Rest well, Detective Kudoh. I’ll see you again.” Asuka winked at him before leaving his ward, pulling the door closed.

“Shit,” Yohji swore under his breath. He just knew Aya had seen that wink, along with his obvious attraction to the doctor. And that was the last thing he wanted. Groaning inwardly, he dropped his head back against his pillow and closed his eyes. He didn’t know how Aya was going to react.

It was a while before Yohji heard the window slid open and the quiet sounds of someone climbing into his ward. He opened his eyes a crack, warily eyeing the silent redhead. 

Aya was obviously off work today. He wore a black sleeveless tanktop and worn black jeans. That strange expression was gone, replaced by his usual impassive mask that Yohji always had difficulties reading.

Despite his wariness, Yohji couldn’t help but admire the man’s sensual grace as he pulled up a chair by his bed and sat.

Calm violet eyes studied him. “Daijoubu?”

“Ah, daijoubu. Why the window?”

Aya looked away. “They wouldn’t let me in.”

Yohji stared at him, all thoughts of Aya’s reaction chased away by that one statement. “What do you mean?”

“The guard at the lobby has my description.”

“He has your description?” Yohji echoed.

“He wouldn’t let me pass. That was on the day you were admitted. I had to figure out an alternative way to get in.” Aya glanced at him and looked away again. “I didn’t know security at the police hospital is so strict.”

That wasn’t true and they both knew it. The police hospital, though catering to a specific sector of the society, was still a public building. Yohji had a very good idea just who had passed Aya’s description and such instructions to the guard post. Mentally, he cursed Crawford who couldn’t seem to stop interfering in his personal life. Aya might not show it, but Yohji knew the discrimination hurt the private man. 

Sitting up with some difficulty, Yohji reached out and grasped Aya’s chin. “Look at me,” he gently coaxed. He waited until those impassive purple orbs met his gaze and smiled. “You are always welcomed to see me. Never forget that.”

To his surprise, Aya’s expression darkened. “You came in contact with that thing.”

“Yeah.” Releasing Aya’s chin, Yohji leaned back against the pillows, his mood somber again as he stared unseeingly at the television, remembering his terrifying intimate encounter with that thing in Nagi’s body.

He heard Aya shifted closer, those violet eyes intent as the pale young man asked, “What happened?”

“…What do you see in me, Aya?”

Aya frowned at that odd off-topic question.

“When I was in the university, I had only one hobby and that hobby was more important to me than my studies, my family and friends. I was a crime buff. I had a shortwave radio tuned to the police band. I spent my free days and nights glued to that radio, listening and when a crime had occurred; I would rush to the crime scene just to see the police in action. When there was a chase, I would follow along in my car, watching every moment of the chase. The adrenaline rush, the thrill I get from my hobby, it was the best sensation I ever had.

“I didn’t become a cop because I wanted to help people. I became one so I can experience the thrill of the chase first-hand.” Yohji sighed and looked at the attentive Aya. “And it knows, Aya. It knows my heart. It understands me like no one else. Most people see me as that half-Gaijin paperwork procrastinator, the laidback detective with the charm but dedicated to his job. They never knew what drives me on in my career. They all thought it was because I care.” 

Yohji looked away, reluctant to see Aya’s reaction when he stripped away the façade he believed the redhead saw. He didn’t think he could stand seeing the anger and betrayal in those beautiful purple eyes. 

“Baka,” came the soft reprimand.

Yohji stared at him, surprised.

Aya kept hold of his gaze effortlessly, those purple orbs calm and somehow wiser and more knowing than that thing’s regard had been. “How many cops do you think join the force out of goodwill and caring for the general mass?” 

“…”

“Very few,” Aya answered for him. “A cop may serve and protects, but it is still a job, a work that needed to be done. Some join the police force with the idealistic hope of making a positive difference, but reality will always intrude, and those hopes will always have to be put aside so they can cope with life. Yet they can never let the people they vowed to serve and protect know at the end of the day they are nothing more than just case numbers. And they hid it so well that they didn’t even realize it. But you, Yohji, you are different.”

Yohji opened his mouth to protest but Aya did not give him a chance to speak. 

“You are honest with yourself,” the redhead continued. “You don’t say it out loud but you know why you became a cop. And you do care, in your own way, or you would never have bailed me out when that bastard framed me for murder.”

Aya leaned forward, resting a pale slender hand firmly against Yohji’s chest. The blond detective could only watch in spellbound fascination as his redheaded lover spoke to him so intensely, violet eyes bright with a conviction that could not be shaken. 

“That thing rattled you only because somehow it knows the truth that you know, not because it made you realized why you became a cop.”

“I understand that thing too,” Yohji said in a hushed voice.

“Good. Then you stand a better chance of catching it than anyone else.”

Yohji stared at Aya, bemused and with renewed respect. He had always known the redhead was intelligent despite the common perception of strip dancers, but not like this.

“You really can tell what’s in people’s hearts,” he marveled softly.

Aya snorted, dropping his gaze, acutely aware that he might have crossed a line he vowed to keep clear of. “Isn’t that what I’ve been telling you?” 

Belatedly realizing he was touching Yohji, Aya tried to distance himself. He froze when a firm grip suddenly covered his hand.

“You didn’t have to help me to sort this out. Why did you do this when you know I don’t love you?”

“…”

The soft click of a lock turning and the sound of the door opening stopped whatever Yohji was going to say. He turned to look, wincing inwardly when he saw who stood at the open doorway. Oh shit… 

Crawford stood there, silent with surprise and a cold anger. Despite being handicapped by clutches, he was still an intimidating sight. The way his spectacles glinted only conveyed his displeasure at making his discovery.

Beside him, Yohji could feel Aya stiffening, turning rigid; his passion of conviction rapidly replaced by the aloof impassiveness and cynical chill. The redhead calmly pulled his hand from Yohji’s unresisting grasp and he stood up, body language poised and defiant.

“What. Is. He. Doing. Here?” Carwford said in a voice so cold and emotionless that it dropped the room’s temperature by several degrees.

Yohji tried to break the tension in the ward. “He’s just leaving, Crawford.” He prayed feverishly that Aya would leave the talking up to him but his prayers were in vain. Aya was not the type to avoid a fight when faced with one.

“I came to visit Detective Kudoh,” the redhead said in an equally frosty and hostile voice.

“Visit? Is that what you do?” 

It was amazing just how much ugly innuendo Crawford could put into that one simple statement.

Narrowed violet eyes blazed with sudden fury and Yohji had to grab Aya’s wrist to stop him from physically attacking Crawford.

“Stop it. Fighting will not help. Calm down, Aya, he’s not worth it.” Yohji cringed inwardly when he felt the full brunt of Crawford’s glare directed on him. “Go, go before he makes it worse.”

It took a few moments for Aya to calm down enough to give Yohji a curt nod. The blond detective slowly released him, watching uneasily as the redhead deliberately took his time to leave by the door.

Neither man looked away, watching each other like two predators spoiling for a fight. 

Impatient to get the redhead out of the place, Crawford reached out to grab him.

Aya viciously slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” he hissed, spitting each word out like venom. 

“Get out quickly then. This place doesn’t welcome trash.”

Aya growled, fists clutching.

“Aya, just go!” Yohji said sharply. He regretted his harsh voice when violet eyes glanced at him, flashing with hurt, but he had to stop the impeding fight. He couldn’t allow Aya to give Crawford a reason to throw him into jail. 

“Go!” he barked again.

And this time, the redhead did, his quick angry steps fading off into the distance as he stormed out of the room.

Yohji flopped back against his pillows, sighing in relief. Even with his eyes closed, he could still sense Crawford’s presence in his room and his displeasure now directed at him. 

“Are you going to wait until he causes you to fall from grace before you come to your senses?”

“Stop it, Crawford. I’m not in the mood for it,” Yohji replied tiredly.

“This is a police hospital. If you’re seen together with him in here, I can’t help you.”

“And when word gets out that you have discriminated against a member of the public, I can’t help you either.”

“Discrimination exists. Live with it. But a cop hanging out with a male strip dancer has greater backlash, especially for you.”

“Because it’s a scandal for the police force?” Yohji retorted bitterly. “Scandals exist. Live with it.”

“Inspector! Detective!” Ken barged into the room, breathless and disheveled from running. Wild-eyed, he failed to notice the twin glares directed at him. “They found your car!”

“What?” Quarrel forgotten, the partners came to alert.

“It’s here! In the basement parking lot!”

Crawford promptly tossed his clutches aside and ran-limped out of the door. Behind him, Yohji grunted in pain as he scrambled out of bed, bruised ribs making their presence felt as he set off at a run. 

They arrived at the basement parking lot. Already cops had cordoned off the area and forensic were swarming over the place. Manx was there as well, looking grim and worried. 

“Did they find a body?” Yohji asked without preamble the moment he reached her.

Manx nodded. “Male nurse, with his neck broken.”

“His brain?”

“Still in his skull. The killer seemed to be in a hurry this time.”

“Bastard has got to be in the building somewhere,” Crawford stated.

“I agree.” Manx walked away from the scene, beckoning the two injured men to follow. “This place is no longer safe for you, Yohji.”

“Wha-?”

“Crawford told me. It seems that the killer has fixated on you. I didn’t really believe him until this happened – your stolen car abandoned in the building you’re in.”

“You are not going to put me under police protection,” Yohji declared firmly. “I can’t do my job like that.”

“I won’t lose one of my best detectives to a psychopath. Crawford can continue the investigation. I want you safe and sound.”

“I won’t be safe until that thing is caught or killed.”

“I believe that thing is called a copycat killer and it got a name – Naoe Nagi.”

Yohji shot Crawford a look. His partner simply shook his head imperceptibly. Apparently, Crawford hadn’t told Manx about the possible true nature of what they were dealing with.

“Crawford, get your partner out of here. We’re going to search the building.”

“Yes, mdm.”


	12. Scene 12 – The Hunt Continues

Yohji wasted no time getting out of the hospital.

His belongings were few, which helped, and with the danger presumably lurking in the hospital, even the hospital staff were eager to get him discharged as soon as possible (‘for the sake of everyone else’s safety, Kudoh-san. Surely you understand.’) 

Yohji understood. That, however, did not meant he cared. Really, at this point, fear for his own safety consumed him. It was not a selfish feeling. Any living being with a shred of survival instinct would feel the same way. Yohji was too busy coping with his own fear to be concerned about the safety of those around him. 

He was not helpless though. He was a cop, trained in taking steps and initiatives to counter the criminal’s actions. So the first thing he did was to head to the morgue with his partner in tow, hoping that Bishop-sensei had some good news for him, some clue that he could use to catch the serial killer.

Bishop greeted them with another of his typical smiles. “I heard about what happened at the hospital. How are you feeling?”

“My ribs are still sore,” Yohji admitted. “Hurts to walk actually.”

“Then why did you come here? You should be at home resting.”

Yohji sat down gingerly, sighing in relief as the pressure on his ribs lightened. “We have to catch the killer.”

“Dedication will only make your injuries worse.”

“The killer is fixated on him,” Crawford explained.

Bishop nodded sagely. “I see. Well? What do you plan to do now?”

“Lure it out somehow,” Yohji said. “I don’t know how, but its fixation on me is its weakness. If I can lure it to me, we can catch it.”

Bishop regarded him curiously. “It? Doesn’t the killer go by the name Nagi Naoe?”

Yohji gave him a look. “After all the evidence you have gathered, do you still believe the killer is that boy?”

“Fair enough. So how do you plan to lure it out?”

Yohji sighed and ran a hand through his tangled hair. “Let’s start with what we do know. The evidence says that thing is a malignant parasite. It needs to change bodies because it kills its host.”

“Fairly quickly,” Bishop added. “The development of ulcers in Schon-san’s brain was unusually fast.”

“And we wounded Naoe,” Crawford pointed out. “From the amount of blood he spilled in your car, he couldn’t possibly survive for long without some medical aid.”

“So it’s on the prowl for a new host. And it has to find the host fast before its current one dies.”

“I just discovered another detail,” Bishop offered. “With ulcers of this magnitude developing, it probably suffers from near-constant and very painful migraines.”

“It will need painkillers,” Yohji realized.

“But not just any over-the-countertop painkillers. Those aren’t strong enough to be effective. The killer will need something much stronger, something only a doctor can prescribes.”

“It means he needs to gain access to a hospital…” Yohji’s voice trailed off as he began realized something awful. 

“A new host, one with access to a hospital’s medicines,” Crawford muttered softly, coming to the same conclusion himself, “and one with a personality that will attract your interest easily.”

In the silence that ensued, Bishop looked at the two suddenly grim men. “I take it you have someone in mind?”


	13. Scene 13 – Baiting It – Or Not

Like a good patient, Yohji stayed home. Manx had reluctantly agreed to him being homebound for a week. He wondered morbidly if she would have been more enthusiastic if she knew what he and Crawford were up to. But as it, the partners decided to keep their discovery to themselves, not knowing whom to trust with an invisible enemy roaming free.

For three days, Yohji spent his time pacing restlessly or sprawled on his bed, enduring the aching pain in his ribs. He refused to take his medication, unwilling to cloud his mind with drugs when he needed to be vigilant in the face of danger. For three days, no one came to visit him except his partner and the occasional visit from Bishop. 

On the fourth night, his doorbell rang. 

Gun in one hand, he cautiously opened the front door a crack. Standing on the other side was Asuka greeting him with a cheerful ‘Konbanwa’ and carrying her doctor’s bag. 

“Konbanwa,” he answered easily despite the tension coiling tighter in his stomach. Tucking his gun into his jeans and covering it with his shirttails, Yohji unlatched the safety chain and opened the door. 

“As part of our bargain, I’m here on house call.” Asuka waved her doctor’s bag at him.

“You sure took your time to come. I was starting to think you wouldn’t come after all.”

“Gomen nasai. I wasn’t feeling well. Today is my first day back at work.” Asuka looked around at his apartment appreciatively. “Nice.”

“Thank you.” Discreetly, Yohji transferred his gun to a drawer. “So where do you want to do this?”

“The couch will be fine.” Asuka placed her bag on the coffee table. “Come take a seat. I don’t bite.”

Despite his wariness, Yohji summoned up his flirtatious grin. “Really? Pity, I was hoping you would.”

* * *

Out on the streets, in an unmarked car hidden in a discreet alley, Crawford heaved a long-suffering sigh. 

Beside him, Bishop smiled amusedly. “Well, it certainly sounds he’s handling the situation quite well.”

“I don’t care. Surveillance or not, if they continue talking like that, I’m turning the radio off.”

* * *

Unaware of his partner’s grousing, Yohji bantered easily with Asuka. The flow of their conversation was quick and light. Once or twice, he even laughed out loud despite causing pain jarring through his ribs. He almost forgot the true purpose of this entire setup.

“Do you drink coffee?” Asuka asked.

“Do I? I can’t live without the stuff.”

Asuka laughed. “Good. ‘Cos I make a mean cup of java. Wait here.” From within her bag, she fished out a brown paper bag and headed for the kitchen. “Where’s your grinder?” 

“In the cabinet, third left from the counter.” Yohji gingerly leaned back against his couch, listening to the sounds of Asuka rummaging in the kitchen.

“I’ll have you know that you’re the first man I’m making coffee for since my divorce,” Asuka announced when she brought two steaming mugs of coffee back to the living room. 

“Really? How long is that?”

“Five years.” Asuka sat down again, next to him, with a sigh. “Can’t believe it’s been that long.”

“Messy breakup?” Yohji inquired gently.

“Oh no. It was a mutual agreement. When we got married, everyone thought it was a match made in heaven. We were so well matched in every way. We even bought a house in the outskirts near a power station. We were the envy of all our friends and relatives.” 

Asuka fell silent, a distant wistful look crossing her face. 

“What happened?” 

“We drifted apart. Six months later, we were divorced. Since then, I haven’t found anyone worth going out with.” Asuka chuckled. “Funny how a successful woman like me have trouble dating a man. Makes me kinda wonder…”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone.”

Asuka looked at him, a mysterious smile on her face. “What, are you volunteering?”

“Am I?” Yohji stiffened when Asuka’s fingers began playing with strands of his hair. 

“You’re cute, I’ll give you that.” Asuka suddenly grimaced, eyes fluttering close. Yohji’s blood ran cold when he saw Asuka began to massage her forehead. “Itai…” came the soft groan of pain. 

That did it.

Yohji sprang to his feet, away from Asuka, and lunged for the drawer, all the while yelling for Crawford to get his butt up to his apartment. His hand closed over the reassuring shape of his service revolver and he yanked it out, pointing it straight at the stunned doctor.

“What the-? What are you doing?”

“Shut up!” Yohji hissed. “Stop your acting. I know what you are.”

“What am I? W-what are you talking about?” Asuka tried to stand but a hostile snarl from Yohji stopped her. “Will you make some sense?” she demanded instead, a tinge of hysterics coloring her voice. 

The door bursting open caused to her to jump and let out a scream. She stared in terrified silence as Crawford and Bishop rushed in, the former pointing a gun at her as well. 

Her voice rose in her panic, “What the hell is this all about?!” 

“I said to stop your acting!” Yohji shouted in angered frustration. 

“Who’s acting?! You’re the one behaving so strangely!” Asuka shouted right back at him.

Yohji growled.

“Bishop, check her bag.” Crawford ordered tightly. “Find that medication.”

Nervous, Bishop nevertheless darted forward and grabbed Asuka’s doctor’s bag. The partners waited tersely as he hurriedly dumped out the contents, frantically searching for the pills that would prove their theory right.

“I found it!” he exclaimed, grabbing up a small silver foil-wrapped bag. 

Jaws tightening, Yohji cocked his gun. If that thing were going to try anything, he would shoot first without hesitation. 

His partner, however, was more cautious. “Is it the right one?”

Bishop was silent, then he shook his head reluctantly. “No, it’s not.”

What? Yohji stared at him in shock. 

“It’s just over-the-counter prescription.”

“B-but that’s impossible!” Yohji stammered. 

“Could you be wrong?” Crawford questioned at the same time.

“I’m not wrong,” Bishop said. “This is not what we’re looking for.”

Yohji’s stunned gaze jerked back to a very angry Asuka, trying to absorb what bishop had said. 

“It’s painkillers for a headache,” Asuka explained angrily, nearly in tears. “I’ve been having one the whole day. Is that a crime?”

Yohji’s arm fell lifelessly to his side and he staggered backward, slumping heavily against the wall. In the awkward silence that ensued, he watched blankly as Asuka, with angry tears pouring down her face, stuffed everything back into her bag. Without even a glance at him, she stormed out of his apartment. 

Shit, what had he just done? Had that thing got so deep under his skin that it made him see shadows where there were none?

Back against the wall, Yohji slid to the floor into a huddled pile. He was shaking, he realized dimly. Shaking rather violently, and his breathing were rapid and shallow. From fear or just pure undulated relief, he didn’t know. Maybe it was a combination of both.

How long he sat there, he did not know. He had lost track of time. He vaguely felt his partner and Bishop leaving. But he couldn’t emerge from the haze in his mind, couldn’t move from the stunned realization that he had nearly shot an innocent person in his paranoia.


	14. Scene 14 – Man In the Mirror

When Yohji finally recovered enough from his shock, he found that he was alone in the apartment. Somehow his partner and Bishop had left without his notice. He couldn’t blame them; he was repulsed by his self-discovery too. If it was even possible, he didn’t want to be in the same room with himself. 

Heaving a shuddering sigh, he rubbed his face with his palm. God, what a nightmare. It would be a miracle if Asuka didn’t lodge a complaint to his superiors. The scandal alone would cost him his rank. 

“Yohji?”

He looked up at the baritone voice.

Aya stood at the edge of the hallway, staring at him with concern. He seemed younger somehow, dressed in a long-sleeved white dress shirt untucked from black jeans. 

Frankly, Yohji was surprised to see him here in his apartment, after the near-fight at the hospital. “What are you doing here?” he asked tiredly.

Uncharacteristically, Aya hesitated before coming closer to him. “I saw that lady doctor leaving a while ago. She looks angry.”

“She is. Happy now?”

Aya paused, surprise flitting across his face before settling into impassiveness. Cautiously he lowered himself to sit before his distraught lover. “What happened? I’ve never seen you like this before.” 

Yohji glared at Aya, suddenly resentful of his presence. “Why? Weren’t you jealous of her? Back at the hospital, it bothered you how well we got along, didn’t it? Well, I’ve driven her away. You should be jumping for joy.”

“Yohji-” 

Aya suddenly let out a yelp when Yohji suddenly grabbed him by his hair and roughly dragged him forward. Losing his balance completely, Aya sprawled awkwardly across Yohji’s lap, his elbow hitting against the hardwood floor. He gasped again in pain as Yohji jerked his head back, forcing him to look up into his lover’s rage-filled face.

“Why are you here?!” Yohji snarled at him. “What do you want from me?!”

“Yohji, stop it!” Aya tried to push himself away.

Yohji caught his wrist and twisted it, forcing another yelp of pain from his redheaded lover. His other hand transferred his grip from Aya’s hair to his pale slender throat and began to tighten. “Tell me, what do you want from me?!”

“Yamero!” Aya choked out the word.

It was the fear in Aya’s eyes that snapped Yohji back to his senses. Realizing what he was doing, Yohji released Aya as though he was stung and shoved his lover away from him. Self-loathing filled him when he saw how Aya scrambled to keep a safe distance away from him. 

“Go away,” he said harshly. “Go away before I really hurt you.”

Aya stayed where he was, violet eyes wide with shock and fear. For some reason, seeing Aya so vulnerable made Yohji even madder. He wanted Aya’s impassive calm back, wanted to see the icy redhead being cynical and cold. He wanted to turn back the clock so he could stop himself from hurting Aya. 

“Go away!” he yelled angrily. “What the fuck do you want from someone who doesn’t love you?! Just fucking go away!” 

Breathing hard, Yohji looked away, recrimination and disgust filling him. He was sure Aya would leave him and never come back; he himself wouldn’t come back to a potential maniac either. 

“I didn’t ask you to love me,” came the unexpected quiet reply. 

Yohji jerked involuntarily in surprise but he still couldn’t meet Aya’s eyes. If he had, he would have seen despite the stony expression, his lover’s eyes were bright with turbulent emotions. 

“You made it very clear from the beginning that it was only sexual and I never asked for what you could not give. I always knew no one could love a whore.”

Yohji flinched at that blunt statement spoken so matter-of-factly. He stared at his redheaded lover, guilt heavy in his heart. There were a lot left unsaid but Yohji knew Aya well enough to read between the lines and what he discovered made him feel even more like a bastard. And the worst thing was, he didn’t know how to fix the situation. 

His cell phone vibrating was a dubious relief. Reluctantly, Yohji answered the call. His already disastrous day became even worse when he heard Crawford’s message. 

“I got to go,” he told the silent, unmoving redhead. 

Tiredly, he hauled himself to his feet. For a moment, as he looked down at the bowed head of his lover, he unconsciously reached out but aborted halfway. Aya wouldn’t welcome his touch after what he had almost done to him. 

Silently, Yohji left his apartment and the redheaded man inside it. His guilt and regret were weighing heavily upon him. He just knew when he comes back again, Aya would be gone and this time it would be forever.


	15. Scene 15 – It’s All In The Bag

Long after Yohji had left, Aya remained in the detective’s apartment, half-sprawled on the floor. He couldn’t move; his chest hurt so badly and there seemed to be something lodged in his throat. 

Defeat was a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Despite his words, a part of him had wanted, no, desired Yohji’s love. Quite often, he dreamt of it. His desire and hope were the only feelings that could make him want to smile for the world to see. But he knew, in his head, it wasn’t possible. A law enforcer and a strip dancer, a male one at that, did not make for a happy ending in real life. The dream was enough. He was content with knowing that the detective had a soft spot for him – or so he had believed. 

Pale slender fingers, trembling slightly, gingerly touched his throbbing throat. He didn’t have to see to know that his skin was bruised. But the burning pain was nothing compared to the pain of having his hope shattered.

Yohji had lifted his hand against him, tried to kill him. It was something he never thought the blond capable of. 

Aya bit his lips, forcing the hurt and betrayal welling up within him down again. He scrubbed at his face with his hand, startled and angry when he realized his cheeks were wet with tears. He hadn’t cried since his sister passed away. 

He would leave, he decided bleakly. Leave and never come back, since it was clear Yohji wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Only a fool would stay when he was no longer wanted. 

Despondently climbing to his feet, Aya took one last look at the apartment where he had spent so much time with his soon-to-be former lover. His gaze fell upon a brown paper bag lying innocently on the kitchen countertop and he froze. 

Despite his distraught state, Aya felt the hair on the back of his neck rose. 

* * *

The latest murder failed to get any reaction out of Yohji. He noticed his own lack of reaction, and so did Crawford. Morosely, Yohji wondered if he had become immune to these gory brutal crimes, or if the roller-coaster emotional ride had finally done him in. Whatever the reason, Yohji found himself studying the crime scene emotionlessly, detachedly. 

His cell phone vibrated just as he left the hotel. “Moshi-moshi.”

“...Kudoh.”

Yohji felt a stab of pain when he heard the familiar baritone voice addressing him so formally. “Not now. I’m on the-” 

“It’s in the lady doctor.”

That caught Yohji’s attention. “What?”

“That thing. It’s in the lady doctor.”

“How do you know?”

“The paper bag she left behind. It didn’t just contain coffee beans. It’s full of empty pill-tabs.”

Yohji couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Bishop had searched in the wrong place. The evidence was right under their noses all the while. He motioned urgently at his partner while saying, “Aya, do you know where the zip-lock bags are kept?”

“Hai.”

“Listen very carefully. I want you to put that paper bag into a zip-lock and take it to the city morgue. Give it to Bishop-sensei personally. Tell him I sent you there. He’ll know what to do. Do you understand, Aya?”

“Hai.”

Yohji took a deep breath, his heart breaking at hearing the flat response. He wished he could say something comforting right now; he wished he know what to say. “After I’m done here, I’m going to see Bishop-sensei.”

“...I won’t wait for you.”

“Aya, I-” But the line disconnected before he could say anything.

Yohji swore briefly. When this is all over, he vowed to track Aya down and do whatever it takes to patch things up.


	16. Scene 16 – Tears Like Water, Fear and Clarity

Bishop looked up from his research when he heard the door to his lab open. He frowned, glancing at the clock. It was still early in the day and he wasn’t expecting any of his assistants yet. However after last night’s botched stakeout, there could be only two people who would seek him out so soon. 

“Crawford, Kudoh, you’re early.” His greeting died when he heard the distinctive tap-tap of high heels. Though he wasn’t trained as a cop, Bishop had worked on enough cases to realize that danger was approaching him. “Who’s there?”

Asuka emerged from the rows of lab tables and shelves, a lazy malicious smile curving her painted lips. “Ohayo, Bishop-sensei.”

Bishop stared at her, a current of alarm running down his spine. This Asuka was very different from the terrified and humiliated doctor of last night, different from the everyday funky and tough-as-nail Asuka. This Asuka confronting him was a predator. He caught sight of her red-stained hands and his blood ran cold. 

* * *

Aya paid the taxi driver and got out of the vehicle, one hand clutching the zip-lock bag tightly. Face tight and expressionless, he hurried up the stone steps to the entrance of the city morgue, anxious to complete his task before Yohji arrives and do something that would only break his heart further. 

He froze the moment he stepped into the building, violet eyes widening with sudden awareness and fear. 

That thing was here. 

* * *

“You almost caught me last night,” said the thing in Asuka. “I had thought my acting was perfect. What gave me away?”

“The headache,” Bishop replied calmly, though he was feeling anything but calm. “Your presence in a human body caused the brain to develop ulcers and that gives you terrible migraines.”

“And thus you searched my bag, looking for the kind of painkillers only a doctor can prescribe. Clever, but not clever enough.” 

“What are you?” 

“You don’t have to know.” Asuka suddenly winced, one hand reaching up to massage her forehead, leaving a smear of clotting blood across her skin. “Damn it, this body is giving out on me already. My stay in each body grows shorter and shorter. Can you tell me why, sensei?”

“Why are you here?” Bishop asked instead. 

“Why?” A mad grin twisted Asuka’s lovely face. “Because you mean something to Yohji. Why else would a doctor participate in a stakeout?”

“Bishop-sensei-” Ken called as he suddenly barged into the lab. He stopped short, freezing under Asuka’s deadly glare and Bishop’s suddenly horrified expression. 

* * *

Crawford’s car came to a screeching halt in the parking lot of the city morgue. Both partners were out in an instant, eager to close this case as soon as possible. 

Yohji suddenly changed direction, trotting towards a red car that he vaguely remembered as Asuka’s. He hastily covered his nose and mouth, reeling from the godawful stench coming from the vehicle.

Using a handkerchief, his intrepid partner carefully unlatched the boot of the car. 

“Oh God!” Yohji exclaimed, seeing the bloody and decomposing body of Naoe Nagi stuffed into the boot. 

“Bishop!” 

* * *

He shouldn’t be here, his mind railed frantically at him. He shouldn’t be here, sneaking into the basement of the city morgue, alone and defenseless. 

But Aya couldn’t turn away. 

That thing, its thoughts screamed so loud that Aya couldn’t hear himself think. Its thoughts, cruel and poisonous, terrified him but drew him ever deeper into danger.

That thing was obsessed with Yohji. 

Aya could almost see in his mind the torment it wanted to do to Yohji. And though Yohji had broken his heart, he was still a good man, a man with a pure heart. Aya would be damned before he let it hurt Yohji. 

Why is everyone leaving in a hurry? he thought distractedly. 

Hugging the wall, he slowly crept down the hallway towards where he could sense its odious presence. It was close, very close to where he was. 

He had to stop that thing. Somehow. Before it gets Yohji. 

A drop of cold liquid wetness on his cheek distracted him. His fingers reached to instinctively wipe away the wetness. Surprised and curious, Aya automatically looked up. 

* * *

They sounded the evacuation alarm, ordering the security to get the innocents out and seal off the building. Even while Yohji was barking orders to the guards, Crawford was on his cellphone, transmitting their discovery to Manx. They took the stairs, raced through the basement corridor, their footsteps echoing crazily off the blank sterile-white walls. 

Yohji and Crawford burst into the lab, stopping abruptly at the destruction before them. The workbenches and shelves were completely smashed, delicate glass instruments and bottles littered everywhere.

“Bishop!” Crawford spied the still form at the far side of the lab, half-buried under the splintered remnants of a writing desk. Heedless of the glass underfoot, he hurried over to the motionless form. He knew when he saw the wide-eyed blank stare and the frozen expression of fear and surprise. “No.” He knew even as he searched for a pulse. “No…” 

“He’s dead,” Yohji stated softly, shocked. He never thought the genteel doctor would meet his end like this. Never. 

Crawford’s glasses flashed dangerously as he looked up at his partner. “It murdered him.” His hard gaze searched the room, quickly spotting the other still form in the room. 

Mind reeling somewhat, Yohji followed his gaze. His blood ran cold when he saw who else had died in the conflict – Asuka, like Bishop, her once-lively eyes blank and dulled and the permanent confusion etched in her face unfamiliar.

“Where is it?” Crawford growled as he rose to his feet.

“It needs to find another host,” Yohji’s thoughts raced. “I don’t know how long it can survive outside a human body, but we need to find it fast. Before it-” The faint groan reached his ears. 

They didn’t hesitate. As one, they whipped out their service revolvers and aimed in the direction from where they had heard the groan.

Yohji’s eyes widened with shock and narrowed again as he watched Ken rose unsteadily to his feet. 

Eyes a little glazed and confused, Ken stared uncomprehendingly at them. “Nani?” 

“Freeze, you murdering bastard.” Crawford snarled.

Ken blinked, the sense of danger slowly but surely trickling into his foggy brain. “Nani? Crawford-san, I don’t understand. Why are you pointing your gun at me?”

“Stop your faking,” Yohji snapped. “You have no reason to kill Bishop! It’s me you’re after!”

Ken’s look of confusion only deepened. “Bishop-sensei dead? You think I killed him?”

“Who else is there in this lab?” Yohji shot back. 

Angry and spooked, the partners closed in on Ken. 

“Put your hands where I can see them,” Yohji ordered. Reaching the apparently confused Ken, he roughly grabbed hold of the other man and slammed him down across another desk, skillfully cuffing his wrists and pressed the muzzle of his service revolver against Ken’s skull.

“Kudoh!” Ken’s voice rose hysterically. “Are you crazy?!”

“Stop your acting, you bastard! You can’t fool me!” Yohji snarled back. “Come out into the open! Or I swear I’ll blow a hole into your brain and force you out anyway!”

“Acting? I’m not acting! I don’t know what you’re talking about! Stop it, Yohji! Stop it! Let me go!”

“I’ll count to three,” Yohji threatened and primed his service revolver.

The door burst open again. Manx and the rest of the team stumbled to a halt, stunned at what they saw. “Kudoh! What the hell are you doing?!”

“Help me, Chief!” Ken shouted hysterically. “He’s gone nuts! The both of them!”

Manx took a step forward but froze when Crawford swung his aim to them. “Don’t interrupt us. We know what we’re doing.” 

“What I see is one of my detectives holding another at gunpoint,” Manx retorted evenly. “Put down your weapons and maybe I won’t haul both your butts to jail.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Yohji shot back as calmly as he could through the terror and anger driving him. “This is no longer Ken I’m pointing my gun at. I’ll prove it to you. One…”

“Stop him!” Ken shrieked. “Onegai, stop him!”

“Two…”

“Don’t do it, Kudoh!” Manx shouted. 

“Thr-” The word died on his lips. Through the observation window, he saw Aya stumbling into view. The pale redhead uncharacteristically, clumsily staggered against the glass, one hand catching hold of the sill. He was sliding down before he managed to straighten again with great effort. 

Aya raised his head and their gazes met.

In that single instant, the world as Yohji knew was irrevocably shattered by the tears spilling down Aya’s cheeks, no, not tears – it was too much, too fast. 

Oh God, no. 

Yohji’s heart clenched in sudden fear and dread. 

Not him. 

All traces of cynicism and reserve gone, those beautiful violet eyes were wide with terror and pain, mutely beseeching him for help. 

Oh God…

And Yohji realized at once the terrible mistake he had made. 

“Yohji…” He saw Aya mouthing his name silently through the glass. Then he was gone, slipping away like a ghost. 

Stunned numb with horror, Yohji didn’t register Manx and his colleagues tearing him away from Ken, yanking his gun away from nerveless fingers. He didn’t resist when they pinned him down in order to cuff him. His stare met Crawford’s who was given the same treatment, and his partner blinked on seeing the absolute fear in Yohji’s eyes. 

“Aya…” Yohji managed to get the name out through a constricted throat.

Crawford caught on what Yohji was trying to tell him and his face grew grim. “Hold it!” he called out suddenly, as calm and rational as he could. 

Manx and the rest of their colleagues stopped on hearing that familiar tone of voice again. 

“Hidaka, I’m sorry for the rough treatment,” Crawford continued calmly. “The both of us made a mistake and we apologize for scaring you. Chief Inspector Manx, please let us up. We can explain this.” 

Manx hesitated, staring at him suspiciously. But she had been working with the rational, analytical man for a long time and she trusted him to have a reason. Nodding to her subordinates, they slowly, warily released both Crawford and Yohji, stepping back to give them some space. 

Quick as lightning, Crawford lunged and seized hold of Manx. Snatching her service revolver out of her grip, he swiftly caught her in a stranglehold and pressed the barrel of her gun against her temple.

“Don’t move,” he told the rest calmly.

“Crawford, you bastard!” Manx snarled in helpless fury.

Crawford ignored her. “Stay put, the rest of you. Follow us and I will put a bullet through Chief Inspector Manx’s head.” He frowned at the still somewhat-shocked Yohji. “Kudoh! We’re leaving!”

Jolted to his senses, Yohji scooped up his own gun and hurried after Crawford.

With Manx as hostage, they hurriedly made their way out of the building. Yohji swiftly scanned the parking lot but there was no sign of Aya. 

“Crawford, you won’t get away with this!” Manx hissed at her officers-gone-rogue. 

“I don’t think I can,” Crawford admitted candidly. 

Without warning, he spun her round and landed a solid punch right into her stomach. Manx choked and doubled over, collapsing to the ground in an unconscious heap. Dropping her service revolver by her side, Crawford raced for his car. “Kudoh, move it!” 

“But Aya should be somewhere nearby! He can’t have gone that far!”

“Baka! You won’t be of any use to Fujimiya if you get caught! Move!” 

Together, the partners scrambled into Crawford’s car and pelted out of the parking lot with tires screeching.


	17. Scene 17 – Finding Heaven...

They had to change cars three times before Crawford was satisfied they had shook off their colleagues. With enough time on their hand, they began to search for Aya, and to Yohji’s distress, he realized just how depressingly little he knew about Aya. 

They went to his workplace, the park where he used to visit with his now-dead sister, and the library. That was about as much as Yohji knew about the places Aya used to frequent, besides his own apartment. And going back to his apartment was out of the question. By now, it would be swarming with cops. If Crawford hadn’t asked him, Yohji wouldn’t have realized he had never gone to Aya’s place. It had always been his apartment, where they ate together, chatted with each other, slept and had sex together – the place where they hung out together the most. It made him realized he had never really taken Aya out on a proper date, proudly introduced him to the world as his boyfriend.

It jolted him awake, tore the blindfold off his eyes so he saw clearly just how shoddily he had treated Aya. How much Aya had to put up with him; how much feeling Aya harbored for him, displayed in each silent gesture. It was only now, driven by heart-clenching fear and guilt, Yohji saw just how much Aya had given him without asking for anything in return. 

And – so blind, I was so blind – how much the redhead actually meant to him. 

It was almost nightfall when they finally located Aya’s tiny apartment. 

Yohji didn’t know what to expect, but the state of Aya’s apartment took him by surprise. 

It was anally tidy. No clutter, the barest of furnishing, everything put away or arranged with an almost painful neatness. Except for the unusual variety of his wardrobe, Aya lived very spartanly on everything else. The singular thing that caught their attention was the tanto on a lacquered wooden stand displayed prominently on the shelf.

Yohji could not remove his eyes from the tanto.

Crawford went over to him, noticing what he was staring at. 

“I gave that to him,” Yohji explained softly, “when I closed that murder case which involved his boss. Meant it as a joke ‘cos I kept bailing him out of danger the entire time. Told him that he ought to have one of these for self-protection.”

Slowly, reverently, he took down the traditional Japanese knife. “Once, I asked him why he stayed a strip dancer. Why didn’t he just find another job. I mean, life expectancy in that business is short and he was already twenty-four. You know what he said? He told me it was the only life he knows. With a background like his, no one else would hire him.” 

Yohji withdrew the short blade, studying it. “This is really a cheap piece of work. I didn’t know he treasures it so much. There’s so much I don’t know about him,” he said half to himself. “So much I choose not to know. I wish...I wish I could have treated him better.” 

Crawford placed a supporting hand on his partner’s shoulder. “We’ll find him,” he said firmly, “and we’ll save him.”

“Soon, I pray. The thought of him dead...” Yohji shuddered.

“Don’t even think it. It’s not going to happen.”

“I hope you’re right.” Yohji turned. Somehow the pain and guilt in his green eyes gave Crawford the chills. 

The distinctive trill of Yohji’s cellphone sounded in the silence that ensued. Hope surged when he recognized the number. “Aya?” 

“...”

“Aya, is that you?” Yohji asked urgently, desperately. “Answer me, koi!”

“Yohji...”

Yohji closed his eyes as a cold wave of relief washed over him. “Thank God. Aya, daijoubu?”

“I’m not...I’m not feeling too good.”

“I know, Aya, I know. But it’ll be better. I’m going to save you. Please, tell me where are you?” Yohji listened carefully as Aya hesitatingly told him his location. “Stay put, Aya. I’m coming to get you.”

“Was that Fujimiya?” Crawford asked the instant he disconnected the line.

“Hai.”

“Did he say where he is?”

Yohji slowly shook his head, still not looking up from his cellphone. “I’m still trying to figure out what he told me.”

Crawford went close to his side. “What did he say?”

The punch straight to his gut took Crawford completely by surprise. He staggered, wheezing sharply, unable to prevent the next blow to the back of his neck. With a strangled grunt, he collapsed to the floor.

“...Teme...”

“Gomen ne,” Yohji apologized. He dragged Crawford over to the radiator. From his partner’s belt, he fished out the handcuffs and cuffed Crawford to the machine. “I have to do this on my own. This thing is after me and it won’t stop at anything or anyone to get me. I’ll only get you in trouble, or worse. You’ll be safer here.”

Crawford fought against the blackness overwhelming his vision. “...Ahou...you’re no...match for it either.”

“I’ll think of something.” Yohji tossed Crawford’s service revolver, cellphone and keys to his handcuffs far across the apartment. “Goodbye, Crawford.”

“Fuck you.” The curse came out slurred as Crawford, unable to fight anymore, sank into unconsciousness. 

* * *

Yohji knew exactly where Aya was. Every fiber in his body screamed at him to just rush directly to his lover’s location and never let Aya out of his sight ever again. It took a huge force of will to rein in his raging chaotic emotions and think clearly. He was sure the police were still looking for him. He couldn’t let them find him or lead them directly to Aya’s hiding place. 

Yohji switched cars twice and took a roundabout route, keeping his behavior normal and unhurried. The multi-level parking complex was, thankfully, relatively deserted at this time of the night. He drove right up to the top level and without bothering to park, got out to search the place. There were few cars on this level and no people at all. He couldn’t see Aya anywhere.

“Aya!” he called out. “Where are you?! Aya!”

“Yohji...” 

He heard the soft call, so soft he thought he had imagined it. Yohji stared at the garbage bin and the pile of discarded cartons boxes disposed so indiscriminately. “Aya?” He raced over to the garbage bin and discarded cartons. Shoving the cartons aside, he stopped short and stared.

Aya sat slumped against the wall, looking completely exhausted and ashen under the dried tear tracks and sweat. Despairing violet eyes gazed up at him from behind disheveled red hair, filled with pain and mute fear. 

Yohji knelt down beside his lover, his own face pale and tight. So relieved that he had found the redhead, yet horrified. “Aya...” he didn’t know what to say.

“It hurts, Yohji.” Aya murmured, the words slurring a little. “It hurts...my head.”

“I know, I know.” He carefully, tenderly slung Aya’s unresisting arm around his neck and gathered his own around his lover’s waist. “Come with me. I’ll find a way to save you. I promise.” 

Hauling Aya to his feet, Yohji began to help him back to the car. He thought frantically on where they could hide from the police, at least, to stay low for a couple days while he concentrate on helping his lover. He knew Manx well enough to know she would personally lead the manhunt and he knew there weren’t many places he frequent that Manx didn’t know of. It must be somewhere Manx would never think of first, or least for a couple of days before she thought of it. 

‘...We even bought a house on the outskirts near a power station.’

Asuka’s reminiscence suddenly came to mind. 

A house on the outskirts: one belonging to a dead doctor who stopped inhabiting it a long time ago anyway. Yohji only knew of one suburb that vaguely matched Asuka’s description. But there was someone else he could ask to pinpoint the location. 

“Aya,” he gently shook his lover to catch his attention. “I know of a place where we can hide. But I need your help.”

“What?”

“That thing in your head: does it still have Asuka’s memories?”

“I...don’t know.”

“Can you try to find out?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Please.”

“It hurts.”

“Please, Aya. It’s the only place we can hide and be safe for a while.”

“...I don’t know if I can.”

“Just try, koi. Onegai.”

“...All right.”

* * *

Time was running out.

Yohji was never more aware of time as every minute, every second slipped through his fingers like sand grains. Yet he couldn’t hurry, not the car he was driving or his lover wrestling an inner battle he could not even begin to imagine with that ‘thing’. He did not know how Aya managed it but his lover’s directions were extremely precise. For that, he was thankful. But he felt really guilty too. By the time they arrived at Asuka’s house, Aya was reduced to a limp shaking wreck, eyes squeezed close and pain etching deep lines in his face. 

A shudder shook Aya’s slender form and he let out a whimper, curling into himself almost protectively. 

“Shh...I got you.” Gently, carefully, Yohji gathered Aya into his arms and carried him to the house. Not a word of protest left Aya’s lips and that told Yohji more than anything else just how badly his lover was hurting. Heedlessly, Yohji broke the front door’s lock and wedged it close behind him with a chair. He hurried through the darkened house, searching for a place where Aya could rest.

For a house that had remained empty for a long time, Asuka’s former home was surprisingly clean. It still contained a few pieces of furniture all covered by white sheets, and even had electricity and water. A twinge of guilt pinched Yohji’s heart. Clearly, Asuka had harbored dreams of being able to return to it again. But because of him, not one of those dreams would be fulfilled.

Yohji finally came upon the master bedroom. Spying the bed, he immediately headed over to it and carefully laid Aya down. He sat down next to his lover, cupping the pale strained face in one hand and the other smoothing away the sweat-dampened locks of hair. 

“Aya?” he called softly, anxiously. “Can you hear me? Aya?”

Dulled violet eyes fluttered open and gazed up at him in exhaustion and pain.

“Hold on, do you hear me?” Yohji urged. “Fight it. Don’t give in to that thing.” 

“...I’ve shut it away, hold it back.” Aya whispered weakly. “It’s angry...struggling to break free.” He reached up with a shaking hand for his lover. “...It’s getting stronger.”

Yohji seized Aya’s outstretched hand, pressing it against his cheek. “I’ll save you. I’ll make that thing leave you. You’ll be all right; everything will be all right. You’ll see, Aya.”

“It’s too late.”

“No! It’s not too late! Don’t give up on me!”

“You have to destroy that thing. Burn me while I’m alive, while I can still restrain it.”

“No!”

“It’s the only way.”

“No!” Yohji gripped his lover’s face with both hands, staring desperately into those beautiful violet eyes glistening with tears. “You don’t have to sacrifice yourself like that. Do you hear me? I won’t let you die!” 

He pulled Aya into a crushing embrace, tears streaming down his own face. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Aya’s eyes widened.

“I’m such a blind fool. I couldn’t see how much you mean to me until now. Can you forgive me for being such an idiot? You’ve given me so much. Brought warmth into my life and so much care. You are my rock, I see that now. My steady support when I need it most. I’ve always known you love me but I chose to ignore it. Forgive me, Aya, for treating you so badly. I’m such an idiot.” Yohji scattered frantic kisses over Aya’s face, starting with the pale smooth forehead and down to the cheeks. “Believe me, onegai. I love you; I need you. Don’t leave me alone.” 

“Yohji...”

“Please,” Yohji begged against the corner of Aya’s lips before kissing him. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Aya’s eyes were dazed and moist as he stared at his lover. He placed a careful, trembling hand against Yohji’s cheek. “You love me?” he whispered hopefully. 

“Yes.”

“You really mean it?”

Yohji’s heart broke. His lover’s wavering voice was filled with so much yearning and uncertainty, and it was all his doing. “I love you, I love you. Oh Aya, please, please believe me, aishiteru.”

“I love you too.” Aya smiled a tender joyous smile that took Yohji’s breath away. He had never seen Aya smile like so before. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Yohji said in a choked whisper. Green eyes roamed over his redhead lover’s features, greedily committing every detail to memory. Reverent fingers caressed Aya’s face and hair. “I’ve never really realized...how beautiful and strong you are.”

Aya refused to cry. He had never heard such honest praises before. Cupping his hand behind Yohji’s nape, he tugged his lover close. “Kiss me,” he ordered hoarsely.

He met Yohji’s lips with his own in a hard frantic kiss, pouring all his love into that single contact. Yohji swept him up in a desperate embrace but he didn’t mind, pressing into the contact just as hard. 

Their lovemaking was frantic, desperate, nearly violent. Aya bit and clawed broad shoulders, mouth scattering kisses anywhere on his lover’s skin that he could find. He submitted to Yohji’s domination, arching needily into the rough possessive caresses. Pale legs lifting and curling tightly around his lover’s waist, he pulled his lover close. Yohji, for his part, lost all restraints and plunged as deep as he could into Aya’s willing body with every thrust, marking him as his. The tension in their bodies as they writhed and rolled among the dusty sheets, the terror and desperation driving them on, somehow made this moment more intense and real than all their previous lovemaking sessions. And when they came, heartache and tears rend their cries of completion.


	18. Reviews

From Mediaminer:

49. Reviewed By: deunank [MediaMiner Member]  On: March 29, 2006 01:08 CST  
Rating(s):  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Wow. Gripping! Scary and well written. And very passionate. The confusion at the lab was very well done. Gah, I wonder what will happen. I don't see any way out of this. 

48. Reviewed By: Flamingolo [MediaMiner Member]  On: November 06, 2005 09:54 CST  
Comment/Review:  
Oh, excellent job! I love this fic so much, you have such a smashing way of writing Aya, it gives me goosebumps. Even when he's a bit torn by Yohji's behavior, he still realistically gets on with it; I mean, planning to leave and never come back, could you FIND a more Aya-ish reaction? And the lemon...whew. Even when you aren't giving a wide range of details, it still manages to be hot and so freaking bittersweet you nearly made me bawl. Still loving this, and looking forward to more from you. 

47. Reviewed By: kaydihn [MediaMiner Member]  On: November 04, 2005 18:17 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Yes!! I've been waiting so long for you to update! This is a great chapter. Yohji comes to his senses so that Aya finally receives the love he deserves. Please hurry and finish. I'm waiting anxiously to see how you're going to end this story. 

46. Reviewed By: moimoi-chan [MediaMiner Member]  On: November 04, 2005 14:32 CST  
Comment/Review:  
so a part of me (a huge part) is screaming in joy that you updated and it was soo good. Yohji finally realising his feelings, and poor poor Aya. But now I'm begging for another update and for you to put me out of my misery 

45. Reviewed By: bewsbud [MediaMiner Member]  On: November 04, 2005 11:42 CST  
Comment/Review:  
I was so happy to see Another Heaven was updated. It was worth the wait! 

44. Reviewed By: moimoi-chan [MediaMiner Member]  On: September 13, 2005 20:44 CDT  
Comment/Review:  
i don't want to wait in vain...sorry the song got stuck in my head...but in all honesty i would love an update 

Title: Loved it!!!  
43\. Reviewed By: Nekosune  On: July 21, 2005 21:38 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Absolutely Fantabulous! Cookies and pocky for you! I loved it! Please update again soon! I'll give you extra yamyams if you do! ^_^ 

Title: Cool Story  
42\. Reviewed By: BloodyThorns  On: June 06, 2005 22:12 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Hey, pretty cool story. Can't wait til you next update! 

41. Reviewed By: Devil1  On: June 03, 2005 20:47 CDT  
Comment/Review:  
An excellent fic. I'll try to find that film. Congratulations. 

40. Reviewed By: dita_chan  On: June 03, 2005 06:11 CDT  
Comment/Review:  
thank you! thank you! thank you for updating. 

39. Reviewed By: Jukeboxcsi  On: June 02, 2005 21:55 CDT  
Comment/Review:  
Awesome! So glad to see an update to this!! Hope there's another soon!! 

Title: Yes! New Chapter.  
38\. Reviewed By: PurpleBunny  On: June 02, 2005 17:54 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Another great chapter! Update soon! 

Title: Please update  
37\. Reviewed By: Gena DeGennaro  On: March 23, 2005 14:29 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 8 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 8 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 5 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 8 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
I think your crossover is well done. I actually went out and bought the movie so that I could see where your muse came from. I really really enjoy your version. Please update soon. 

36. Reviewed By: Jukebox_csi [MediaMiner Member]  On: February 02, 2005 21:52 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 9 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
I'm with the others in saying how glad I am that you've decided to continue with this story and to thank you for an update. I hope we don't have to wait long for the next installment! It's a very interesting story, quite different from most WK fics I think. 

35. Reviewed By: Flamingolob  On: January 19, 2005 17:36 CST  
Rating(s):  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
I'm so glad you updated! I'm really enjoying this dark little ficcie, you've done an excellent job. You manage to conjure up a nice modern-tech-meets-film-noir atmosphere that suits the plot really, really well. Intriguing manipulation of Yohji, I've thoroughly enjoyed how you've added and expanded on aspects of his personality to make him very deeply IC. Nice work with Aya, too; I've always had the impression that he's more intuitive than he lets on, and I like how you've worked with that. Really glad you're updating again, I'm looking forward to more!

34. Reviewed By: buenagirl13 [MediaMiner Member]  On: January 18, 2005 22:05 CST  
Rating(s):  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
I was so excited to see that you updated this story. I had been very interested in it since the first time I read it and was hoping that you would continue it. Now, please, don't keep us in suspense for so long. Hope that you may continue and finish this wonderful fic... ^_^ 

33. Reviewed By: Toki Mirage ( )  On: January 17, 2005 21:30 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
WOOT!!!! UPADTE SOON ONEGAI!!!!!!!!!!!! ^^ 

Title: Yes!!!  
32\. Reviewed By: JemJem24  On: January 17, 2005 09:54 CST  
Rating(s):  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Yes!! You don't know how long I've been wanting for this update!! Now keep it coming!! 

31. Title: Continue?  
Reviewed By: Jemjem [MediaMiner Member]  On: January 05, 2005 19:08 CST  
Rating(s):  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
This is a great story. It's been a long time since your last update, but I really hope you won't abandon it. 

30. Reviewed By: jukebox_csi [MediaMiner Member]  On: November 27, 2004 20:03 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
I enjoyed this story the first time I read it on your website and enjoyed reading it again. I wish you would consider finishing it instead of leaving it in the middle. I'd love to see what happens, what the evil is, if Yohji saves Aya and declares his love, and how it ends. sigh.....hope your muse to finish this story strikes you again real soon. 

29. Reviewed By: Usagiiiiii  On: October 15, 2004 19:09 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Great story!!! So where's the update? 

28. Title: Another Heaven (Weiss Kreuz Style)  
Reviewed By: Tashia  On: October 13, 2004 17:54 CDT  
Comment/Review:  
Very interesting story.I like it very much.I cant wait to see what else happens.Plz update soon and keep up the good work. 

Title: Update Please!!!  
27\. Reviewed By: Paramor  On: September 26, 2004 21:00 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Wow! This is one of the best WK stories I've read in a while. Well-written and great adaptation from the movie. You'll update soon?? 

26. Reviewed By: Hibiki23  On: September 24, 2004 21:10 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
You do such a great job on Aya angst--not overboard, just enough to make a girl want to give him a big hug. Great writing. Update soon!! 

25. Reviewed By: Minx  On: September 23, 2004 22:02 CDT  
Comment/Review:  
Great story! ...just ... ahhh...mmm...are you going to follow the original story right to the ending? or are you going to modify the ending a bit? ...or you can't tell? ..either way, do continue. 

24. Reviewed By: Althea of the Sidhe  On: September 23, 2004 13:22 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
The story is great. I read in on your webside Noir 13. I've waited for so long for you to continue it, but you never did. Will you continue it now? Pleeeease do it!!! 

23. Reviewed By: JNayak  On: September 23, 2004 07:16 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
This fic is great! Rated among the top 5 weiss kreuz fics I've read. Keep it up and upload soon. Thanks! 

22. Reviewed By: JNayak  On: September 23, 2004 07:12 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
This fic is great! Rated among the top 5 weiss kreuz fics I've read. Keep it up and upload soon. Thanks! 

21. Reviewed By: Amano  On: September 22, 2004 17:13 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Please please please continue this fic. I love the way you build the characters, and Aya is such an attrative character in this story.   
 Reviewed By: Toki Mirage [MediaMiner Member]  On: February 22, 2004 12:50 CST  
Comment/Review:  
i have ONE question for you. *glares* why would you say it's completed WHEN YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED THE STORY??????????? I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS, DON'T TELL ME THAT THAT IS ALL THERE IS!! *pouts* you're mean... *sniff* i wanna *sniff* know *sniff* what ha- *hic* happens!!! *breaks down crying* NO!!!! YOU MEANIE!!! MEANIE MEANIE MEANIE!!!!!!!

20\. Reviewed By: malik_n_ceres_s_hana [MediaMiner Member]  On: July 22, 2003 21:24 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 8 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 8 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 8 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 8 of 10  
Overall Rating: 8 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Wow-  
Well, this story hasn't been updated in a long time, but that doesn't mean you should stop trying to finish this story. Very interesting, indeed- kinda gives me the chills.   
Taking the brain? that's pretty damn original...   
And Omi-kun? Where's Omiiii?

19. Reviewed By: Cath Nye  On: June 24, 2003 16:40 CDT  
Comment/Review:  
I really love this fic and i want you to write more now! Thank you, Cath.

missing_white_wings@hotmail.com  
18. Reviewed By: CrimsonDreamer [MediaMiner Member]  On: May 20, 2003 17:25 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
If I could have rated it higher, I would have! But you are so evil with the chapter endings *sniff sniff* Write more soon, pretty pretty please?

17. Reviewed By: Phoenix  On: May 17, 2003 21:18 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
This is a Fantastic Story!! Please Continue!!

16. Reviewed By: MookieNH [MediaMiner Member]  On: April 04, 2003 16:20 CST  
Rating(s):  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
The combination of steamy scenes between Aya and Yohji and the suspense of the story are well done. Nagi's sudden fascination with Yohji's hair was awfully creepy.  
Yohji and Aya seem to fit their parts pretty well.

15. Reviewed By: MookieNH [MediaMiner Member]  On: April 04, 2003 15:59 CST  
Comment/Review:  
I've never heard of the movie, and I chose to skip your explanation so I wouldn't "spoil" the story as you write it. However, I think it is well done so far. Your writing is descriptive and I can picture the scenes very well.  
I love the portrayal of Aya's character, and the closing line of the first chapter was great. From the movie or from you, it was still a great place to leave that scene.

14. Reviewed By: sardius  On: April 02, 2003 06:36 CST  
Comment/Review:  
Wow. Love this new fic. Absolutely wonderfully. I've always love reading/watching crime scenes and very interested to know how the plot will develop in the next few chapters.   
Thanks for the updates. And gal, who wouldn't love the lemon scenes? Wonderful as usual.

13. Reviewed By: babaca [MediaMiner Member]  On: April 01, 2003 20:05 CST  
Comment/Review:  
Man, this is very good. And I'm glad you've started working on this again. Why do I think Nagi is now going to be the next killer?

12. Reviewed By: Mara-chan [MediaMiner Member]  On: April 01, 2003 17:58 CST  
Comment/Review:  
this is very very cool. you don't see too many alternate universe-ish fics like this. i've never even heard of the movie before, but i can tell its good. this is just great. i can't wait to read more.  
Mara

11. Reviewed By: Koji-chan  On: April 01, 2003 14:08 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
*Phew*...my my there are really a lot of GREAT Yohji x Aya stories on here ^____^...I LOVE IT !!!! Media Miner is really the BEST fanfiction page I've ever seen!!!!! Lucky me, that I've found it ^.^!  
*cough* but I wanted to say a little bit about your fic^^'', so...as I said...GREAT^^...*is spelling* G-R-E-A-T!!!!! I don't know the film *sob*...Yohji doesn't love Aya -_- *sob*...really????? Maybe he will learn to love him during the next parts (*sigh I don't find the right words -_-'', but you understand what I want to say, ne^^)...I hope so (!!!!) *sigh*...but it will remain a dream, eh ??? *yeah yeah dream on Koji-chan*...*BAKA* ^____^  
Oh I don't know why I love the Y x A pairing soooo much (it's my favourite^^...you would never thought that, ne ^_~)sure I also read other parings as well, but Y x A IS MY FAVOURITE...EVER!!!!! ^^  
Saa...I know I know I've said it again, but I can't be helped...I have to say it again and again *is dancing and singing*...*Yo x Aya are my favourite Yo...* *grin* @______@  
Oooohhhhh PLEASE...*is spelling again* P-L-E-A-S-E...the next part...SOON!!!! *heavy sigh* I can't wait long *sob*^^....pwwwwweeeeeeaaaaassssseeeeeee!!!  
Ja *please^^*  
Koji-chan *soon^.^*  
P.S.: Ah Sardius, you're here too^^...hhmm...where's the new part...you know..."Colours..."...oohhh please, or else I have to...*threat threat*...CRY *sob* ^_________~. I'm hunting you down until the next part is on *evil laugh* ^_~

10. Reviewed By: nekojita_chan [MediaMiner Member]  On: April 01, 2003 09:16 CST  
Comment/Review:  
*Sigh* What a fantastic way to start a day, finding out that you updated!!! Yah!! These chapters were wonderful, moving the story along and giving me chills, what w/ the comment about Yohji's hair and wondering who else is going to be used as the evil's 'ride'. And the lemon.... just perfect. Oh, I'll be waiting very impatiently for the next update.

9. Reviewed By: Neila  On: January 14, 2003 15:36 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 8 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
I had always wanted to see Another Heaven but I can't get a copy anywhere. Anyway I love the description that you put into this especially the beginning when they realize that the brain is in the pot and all of them start running. I could actually see that happening. Keep it up and hope to see more soon!

8. Reviewed By: Sardius [MediaMiner Member]  On: January 03, 2003 20:27 CST  
Rating(s):  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
YAY! You wrote another fic and I almost missed it. Woman you have to continue this ever so soon. I don't care if it takes you years to post the next part but I would definitely love to read more. The Yohji and Aya bit...*L* oh that was just beautiful. Thankyou!

7. Reviewed By: Tsunami  On: April 06, 2003 05:18 CDT  
Rating(s):  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
I thought you had stopped writing your lovely YxA so imagine my joy at finding that you have continued this fic.  
Also, I agree with others who are worried about Nagi's fascination with Yohji's hair (haven't seen the movie either).

6. Reviewed By: Featherfire  On: December 06, 2002 19:59 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 9 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 9 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Wow. When I got to the end I was like...where's the rest? Then I whined. *chuckles* Excellent story...can't wait to see more...and it makes me want to see this movie, now. ^^

5\. Reviewed By: Miss J [MediaMiner Member]  On: December 04, 2002 23:36 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
waaah...  
that's beautiful!!  
i've watched the movie...and i LOVE it!!  
and i LOVE this story too!!  
keep on going!!!  
can't wait to read next!!!

4\. Reviewed By: dodo  On: December 04, 2002 04:45 CST  
Rating(s):  
Style of Writing: 10 of 10  
Spelling & Grammar: 10 of 10  
Originality/Creativity: 10 of 10  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
exceptionally well done!  
can't wait for the rest of the story....keep up the good work ^_^

3\. Reviewed By: babaca [MediaMiner Member]  On: December 03, 2002 14:30 CST  
Comment/Review:  
What a great start. I'm not familiar with the movie, but it doesn't matter. The crime action was good (although now I'm thinking for dinner I'm ordering a pizza!) ^____^   
The Yoji & Aya action is really really really good! Keep up the excellent work!

2\. Reviewed By: nekojita  On: December 03, 2002 12:43 CST  
Rating(s):  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Oh, I don't care where you get your inspirations from, as long as you write such great fics about the boys. This is such a great start to what I'm sure will be another amazing fic.

1\. Reviewed By: Hope  On: December 03, 2002 18:28 CST  
Rating(s):  
Enjoyment Factor: 10 of 10  
Overall Rating: 10 of 10  
Comment/Review:  
Wow......that most likely have been one of the best i've read. Keep up the awesome work!


End file.
